


Festive Tidings

by transfiguredtoad



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Teachers, Bedsharing, Daenerys finds out about Sansa and Tyrion's marriage, F/M, Galladon of Tarth lives, Injured Brienne, Jaime and Brienne go back in time, Jaime and Brienne have a baby, Jaime as Sansa's sworn sword, Jaime takes Brienne to the ball, Roommates, coffee shop AU, drunk!Jaime, queensguard!Brienne, soft!Jaime, writer!Jaime
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-01
Updated: 2020-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-03 12:34:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 31
Words: 77,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21632008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/transfiguredtoad/pseuds/transfiguredtoad
Summary: A fic a day for all of December! (Hopefully!)
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth, Tyrion Lannister/Sansa Stark
Comments: 253
Kudos: 376





	1. A Surprise Affection

Ser Jaime stood next to her, stock still. Sansa had quickly realised that, in the face of nerves, Jaime Lannister did not scream or shake. He stood still and, when the opportunity arose, he made witty comments. It made him an amusing man to be by her side as he had been for five days, since he had arrived at Winterfell, half-starved and feverish.

Sansa had been all for sending him back into the cold. Arya had lent more towards slitting his throat first. It was Bran who talked them into healing him and feeding him until he looked like a human again. 

Ser Jaime made sarcastic comments all throughout his healing, Sansa noticed as she stood in the door frame for five minutes a day for the first three days. Even weak, he had something to say. Although it should have irritated her, it did not. It reminded Sansa of those few weeks in King’s Landing where she was safe, with Jaime's brother. Tyrion always had something to say to.

On the fourth day of Ser Jaime's stay, Sansa arrived at the room again, directly after her breakfast. She wasn't sure why she continued to visit him. Curiosity, most likely. Standing just inside the room, she found Ser Jaime looking human, his face not covered in sweat and his eyes focused.

“Good morning, Lady Sansa,” he said with a jolly tone. He was tucking into a breakfast of porridge and rice cakes. “This porridge with cinnamon is inspired. Please give my compliments to your cook.” Sansa controlled the smile that threatened to burgeon on her face.

“Why are you here?” Sansa demanded and Ser Jaime cleared his throat, organising his cutlery straight on the plate. He took a sip from the goblet of water. Sansa tapped her foot on the stone ground, irritation swelling in her chest. Lannisters were so entitled.

“Cersei isn't sending an army,” Jaime said simply. Sansa was nonplussed. She raised her eyebrows and Jaime furrowed his. “She told them, she told all of us she was going to send her army to give aid.”

“Well, if anyone believed her, more fool them.” Sansa noticed Jaime's throat bob and she laughed. “You truly believed her? Do you know your sister at all?”

Jaime had explained some things after that, the baby and Tyrion's conversation. Sansa could not believe that Tyrion had been so stupid as to believe Cersei’s obvious lies. Then Sansa had demanded again why he had come to Winterfell.

“I want to fight for the living, my lady.”

He told her a story then, of a boy who wanted to be a knight but who fell in love with his sister and became a kingsguard to a mad king who liked to torture and kill with fire. The boy tried to serve like he should and then, when the lives of a city were at stake, the boy stabbed him and his pyromancers. And then things got worse for the boy rather than better. 

Sansa had questioned him intensely and he had impressed her. So, when he said all he wanted to do was make up for his sins - and there were a lot of them - Sansa asked him to serve her. Jaime asked, nervously, if she already had a sworn sword. Sansa said she did and Jaime moved his breakfast tray aside to kneel in front of her and swear vows.

And, now, it was the fifth day since he arrived and he was standing by her side, still. “I wish they'd hurry up,” Jaime said. Sansa pursed her lips and glanced at him. His face was practically blue from the cold. Sansa would have to organise him a fur cloak if he were going to stay indefinitely. Her stomach squirmed slightly. She wasn't sure how she was going to explain his presence to Brienne. She hoped that Brienne did not think that Sansa thought she wasn't sufficient. Because she was. Having Jaime as her sworn sword was not about need. It was about repayment for the things he had done wrong, giving him the chance to serve someone who would not ask dishonourable things of him, to be the knight he had always dreamed of being.

Sansa had a soft spot for people whose lives hadn't turned out the way they had planned.

“Why are they delayed?” Jaime asked. Sansa didn't respond. She'd been toying with the question since before Jaime arrived. They were supposed to arrive two days before him. A few days delay wasn't worthy of not, but a week was.

As she considered it though, she began to hear the hooves of the horses on the ground, the cheers of the crowds and the clatter of a huge army. Sansa’s stomach tightened. Her brother had sold the north back into the hands of a queen. All Sansa could hope for was that this queen was better than Cersei.

They arrived at the gates together, Jon and his queen, sat on large horses. Sansa considered that they made a very attractive couple. The pair shared a look and Sansa’s suspicions were confirmed. Perhaps Jon would still get to be king.

Jon swung down from his horse and approached Sansa, tapping her soldier. He gave Jaime a wary look but ignored him as he bent down to Sansa’s ear. “Brienne is injured,” he murmured. Sansa’s insides went cold. She drew away sharply.

“What happened?” she demanded. Jon shook his head.

“Cersei's armies attacked us on the road. Brienne took a hit for Queen Daenerys.” Sansa closed her eyes, feeling fear take hold in her heart.  _ Of course she did _ . “She's-”

“Where is she?” Jaime interrupted. Sansa turned to him, surprised by the vehemence in his voice. “Where  _ is _ she?” His eyes were wild and fearful. Sansa glanced at Jon, who was hitting Jaime with a look of wary, confused disgust.

“Where is Brienne?” Sansa asked her brother, for herself as well as for Jaime. She hadn't even known that Jaime knew Brienne. The flash of a Lannister sword at Brienne's waist glimmered in Sansa’s mind. Brienne would have to be okay so that Sansa could question her about this, in curiosity rather than anger. Everyone was allowed to have secrets, though why Brienne, who knew everything about Sansa, would feel the need to hide this was a mystery.

Jon pointed them in her direction and, without even speaking with the queen by Jon’s side, they rushed off to find her. It didn’t take long. She was just outside the gates, lying unconscious in a wagon, surrounded by food stores. Sansa spoke to the soldier who was riding the horse pulling the wagon while Jaime, spritely for a one-handed forty-year-old man, pivoted onto the wagon. Sansa stepped up carefully onto the wagon too and allowed the driver to take them inside of the walls.

Sansa was shocked to see the tenderness with which Jaime caressed Brienne’s face, his thumb stroking the pale skin. Wondering what exactly Brienne was hiding, Sansa knelt beside Jaime. “Ser Jaime,” she said softly. He glanced at her but there were tears in his eyes. He blinked quickly and returned his glance to Brienne. It looked as though she were just sleeping, though the bandages tied around her stomach spoke differently. Fear spiked in Sansa’s heart.

Once inside the walls of Winterfell, Sansa noticed that Jon had called for the maester. With a stroke of Brienne’s cheek, Sansa stepped down from the wagon and took a deep breath. Jon had not said she was likely to die. All she could do was wait.

**XXX**

“No,” Jaime protested, his eyes not leaving Brienne. She was so pale, so weak. “I won’t leave her.” Jaime could not even attempt to feel embarrassed for the weakness that the desperation in his voice conveyed. His father would have said that Lannisters never beg. Jaime would have begged anybody at that moment to save her. His heart raced in his chest. He pushed a strand of hair behind her ear, wishing her eyes would blink open so he could know that she truly would be okay.

“Maester Wolkan,” Sansa called up to Winterfell’s maester from her position beside the wagon. She had stepped off easily when the maester had arrived but Jaime was not so easily swayed. The old maester looked at the Lady of Winterfell and respectfully inclined his head. “Allow him to stay.” Jaime let out a sigh of relief, shifting himself so that he was more comfortable to stay by Brienne’s side. The maester scowled at Jaime but did not protest further.

Jaime leaned against the side of the wagon, holding Brienne’s hand as the maester began to do some preliminary tests on her. In the back of his mind, Jaime heard Lady Sansa conversing with the dragon queen, about Brienne and her taking a hit for Daenerys when Cersei’s army attacked. 

“Stupid wench,” Jaime murmured softly, squeezing her hand. She could not die, would not die, not for that dragon queen. Running full force towards the queen with a spear flashed into Jaime’s mind. If only he had killed her that day, Brienne would not have had to take a hit for her. Jaime found himself blinking back tears again. Surely, the gods were not so cruel as to take her from him, just as he had come to Winterfell to be by her side when they died, together. Together, in battle, not like this.

A few minutes later, when the maester had confirmed that the wound was infected and needed immediate operation, Lady Sansa approached again. From the end of the wagon, she said, “Maester Wolkan, would Lady Brienne not be more comfortable in bed?” A lump formed in Jaime’s throat. Yes, she should be in bed. She was a lady of Westeros and she deserved the best care, not an operation in a wagon in a courtyard where every northerner could see her.

The maester shook his head. “I worry about moving her, my lady. I must operate here and quickly.” The need for quick surgery hit Jaime like a blow to the chest. He let out a low moan, closing his eyes against the fear that threatened to consume him. He could not lose Brienne, not now when he was all alone in the world but for her.

“Will she live?” Sansa demanded. Jaime could hear the tears in her throat and he was glad others knew what a terrible waste of life it would be if Brienne died. Brienne was life and honour and she  _ could not die _ .

“ _ Yes _ ,” Jaime answered emphatically, not taking his eyes from Brienne, a feverish sweat like a sheen coating her face. “She will live.”  _ She had to _ . Sansa didn’t say anything more but Jaime could sense her standing by the wagon, her eyes on Jaime and Brienne. Only after the maester’s assistant arrived and they began to prep Brienne for surgery did Jaime sense Sansa move.

“Is she going to be okay?” he heard another voice say, croaky-voiced. Jaime looked away from Brienne to find her squire stood by Sansa. He had grown exponentially since Jaime had gifted him to Brienne, though, staring at Brienne with red eyes, he looked just as much a boy as he had then.

Sansa took the squire’s hand. “She’s a fighter,” she said to him. He nodded hurriedly and Sansa gave him half a smile. Jaime was noticed then, watching them. Podrick’s eyes widened immediately.

“Ser Jaime,” Podrick said in surprise. “Why are you here?”  _ To fight with Brienne, to die with Brienne _ , Jaime thought, his heart aching. 

“Podrick,” he said quietly with a nod. “Where were you when she took a dagger?” Jaime wasn’t sure why he asked, judgement for not taking the dagger in her place, curiosity for how it happened, desperation to think of anything but the dying woman by his side.

Podrick began to shudder, his bottom lip trembling. “I was- she told me to-” Jaime blinked rapidly to brush away tears and then turned back to Brienne. Of course she would keep this boy away from the thick of it. “I wish I had been with her,” Podrick said, his voice thick with tears. Jaime tore his gaze from Brienne again and levelled Podrick with an assessing look.

“Yes, you should have been,” Jaime said forcefully but not too unkindly, “but I gave you to Brienne for her to protect you more than you to protect her. She would never have allowed you to get close enough to protect her.”

Podrick nodded hurriedly, his eyes welling with tears. Sansa glanced between them with palpable curiosity. If Jaime had had the strength to do anything but watch Brienne, he might have made some witty comments to his liege lady, but, as it were, he could not, not until he knew she was going to be well.

Podrick opened his mouth to say something when they were interrupted by a small, croaking voice. “Jaime?” it said and it yanked Jaime’s eyes back to Brienne, whose blue eyes were alight with fear and agony and confusion. His heart soared. Jaime lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed it tenderly.

“It’s okay, wench, calm down, I’m here.” Jaime ignored the maester’s assistant leaving the wagon to run and fetch milk of the poppy for her. “I’m here,” Jaime repeated. Brienne lifted her hand and caressed Jaime’s cheek. Jaime pushed his face into her hand.

“I’m dead,” she said dreamily. “I’m dead and I’m with you.”

Jaime shook his head vehemently. “No, wench, we’re alive, at Winterfell.”

“They told us you were dead,” she said, those blue eyes filling with tears. Jaime furrowed his brow, wondering who “they” were. Perhaps Cersei’s army. He wondered who had led it. Perhaps they had implied that Jaime was dead. Perhaps Brienne herself had inferred it from his absence leading her army. She let out a loud groan at what the maester was doing, stitching her stomach. She glanced down but Jaime shook his head, his thumb under her chin pushing it up to meet his eyes again.

“I’m not dead yet, wench. I’m here to fight by your side, if you’ll have me.” Her smile grew lazy and wide. Jaime knew she was feverish, as he had been when he arrived. “You’re going to be alright, Brienne, just fight it. You’re the most stubborn soldier I know.”

“Jaime,” she muttered, her eyes fluttering against the pain. Jaime felt panic rise in his chest.

“Where is the milk of the poppy?” Jaime demanded of the maester who ignored him and continued with his work. Screwing up his face in anger, Jaime turned back to Brienne. His face softened.

“Thank you for coming,” Brienne whispered, her eyes closing. Jaime missed the blue immediately. He cupped her cheek with more force, not sure whether she truly believed he was there or not. She could not die with that conversation at the dragon pit being their last that she truly remembered. She could not die remembering him that way.

“I will always come, wench. I will always be here, now.” She smiled again, despite the pain, and, somewhere in Jaime, he decided that she was going to be okay, that she was going to fight. His panic abated slightly and he exhaled heavily. The assistant returned with milk of the poppy, which he allowed Jaime to help Brienne to drink. It was a sure testimony of how much pain she was in, or how deep she was in her fever, that she drank it without complaints. When she was finished, Jaime brushed a kiss against her forehead, pressing their heads together swiftly before pulling away.

He found Lady Sansa staring at him and he knew he owed her an explanation for why he had truly come to serve her. He couldn’t bear to tear himself away from Brienne though, not while she was still so fragile. Leaning back against the side and folding his knees to his chest, he decided Lady Sansa could wait. Brienne was his only priority now.

**XXX**

Sansa found Jaime hours later, watching Brienne sleep in a chair beside her bed. He did not complain at her presence there. Sansa took a seat on the opposite side of the bed, brushing a piece of Brienne’s hair behind her ear.

“You are in love with her,” Sansa stated simply. Jaime hesitated, making Sansa look at him with arched brows.

“I don’t know,” he said with honesty. Sansa nodded. He was at least on his way to it being a possibility. “I came here to fight and die by her side.”

Sansa’s eyebrows furrowed, her eyes narrowing. Her curiosity overcame her. “How  _ do _ you know her?”

They sat there for over an hour while Jaime told her a story that started with Sansa’s mother and finished with a gold sword, a set of armour and a squire. He told it truthfully, without bragging and with few witty comments. He was not shaking, nor screaming, but the nerves inside Jaime were hitting differently than they had been earlier. He was quiet and he couldn’t stop adjusting the way he was touching Brienne - holding her hand or cupping her cheek or brushing his thumb against her shoulder.

The man was in love.

Sansa smiled softly. “Are you going to sleep in here?” Jaime shook his head with a small derisive snort.

“I think she’d wake up and kill me if I dishonoured her so.”

Sansa shook her head, her lips turning upwards. “There is no dishonour in this, Jaime.” His head snapped up like a startled animal, green eyes wide. Sansa wondered what he was thinking about: the dishonourable things of his past, perhaps, or the honourable things he would accomplish in the future, with Brienne by his side. Sansa would release her from her vows soon, would release both of them when they decided to get married, and then they would all just be friends.

And Sansa would walk the world over to find a love like theirs. Hope burgeoned in her chest as she watched the smile play at Jaime’s lips as he watched Brienne. She remembered the way that Brienne had caressed Jaime’s cheek when she saw him. Love existed, in front of Sansa’s very eyes, and, there, by Brienne’s bed, she swore to herself that she would find it.


	2. Teachers AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> when the year one teacher goes into labour a month early, Catelyn Stark needs her maternity cover to start early. Brienne is more than ready for the challenge of teaching - but perhaps not for the challenge of year five teacher, Jaime Lannister

“Brienne, I’m so glad you could start early,” the kindly red-haired woman who had interviewed her two weeks earlier greeted her in the reception, a relieved smile on her face. She held the door open behind her to let her through. Brienne shifted her hand on her briefcase which held her laptop and the planning that had been sent through by the woman she was covering. She smiled at the headteacher.

Catelyn Stark led her into her office, furnished nicely with a window that had a view over the juniors’ playground. Brienne took the seat opposite Catelyn’s, where she had sat when she was interviewed. “You are most welcome. I would not have liked that year one class to have a month of supply teachers. They had a difficult reception class so some of them are quite far behind. Another month lost would have been very difficult indeed. I’m afraid, my dear, you will have quite a challenge on your hands.”

Brienne smiled. “I like a challenge.” Catelyn beamed at her.

“Your teaching assistant is a lovely man called Podrick. He’s waiting for you in the classroom to go through some little things with you, timetables and the like. I suppose Jeyne sent you through the planning?” Brienne nodded, patting the briefcase at her side. “Excellent. Well, I would suggest starting tomorrow with that and just getting to know the children today.”

“Of course,” Brienne said with a nod. That had been her plan anyhow. She had been away from teaching for a year and a half but she still remembered how children worked.

“Wonderful. I expect you’re eager to get started.”

Catelyn led Brienne down the corridor to the left, pointing to the right to explain which classroom belonged to each of the junior years and informing Brienne of the names of the teachers for each. They passed the staffroom which Catelyn pointed out to her as a room that had a steady supply of tea bags and biscuits. Brienne smiled nervously.

“We’ll just bob in here first,” Catelyn said, stopping at a door painted turquoise with “Year 2: Mrs S Lannister” on the door. They knocked and entered immediately. The classroom was large, with round table, a large role play and arts area and a cloakroom at the back of the room. Despite the cold weather, the door to the field beyond was open. In the arts area, there was a young woman, taller than Catelyn but nowhere near as tall as Brienne, bent over placing paintbrushes and paper in front of each seat. “Sansa,” Catelyn called.

The woman looked up immediately, her beautiful face morphing into a smile. The resemblance to Catelyn was uncanny. “Mum,” she said, confirming Brienne’s suspicions. Sansa brushed her hands against her long grey skirt and strode over, extending her hand to Brienne. “You must be Brienne Tarth.”

“Yes,” Brienne replied, shaking Sansa’s hand and smiling.

“Wonderful. Perhaps you could come to see me after school and we can discuss the topic lessons. Jeyne and I shared the planning. It seemed to make more sense that way.” Brienne nodded. That had been the case at her last school too.

“Excellent. I will meet you here after school.”

“Perfect.”

With that, Catelyn and Brienne left the classroom and wandered along to the next one, which had “Mrs J. Stark” written on the door still. Catelyn chuckled and peeled it off the door. “I will have our reprographics man print a new one by lunch time,” Catelyn said.

“My predecessor was a Stark too?” Brienne said with surprise. Catelyn nodded.

“My daughter-in-law. She has just given birth to my third grandchild, her second son, Torrhen.” Brienne smiled. “Don’t worry. The place isn’t entirely overrun with Starks!”

They entered the classroom through a purple door. On the left, Brienne found cloak pegs with children’s names and pictures by each one. Physical education kits were hung to each peg. On the right side, there was a role play area set up to be a castle, with an overspilling box of dresses and armour. Brienne smiled. After walking the small corridor, the room opened into a large square. Like Sansa’s classroom, there were round tables with a large carpeted area in front of a whiteboard and a desk. The displays around the room were covered in beautiful colours, terrible artwork and stories with child’s handwriting. Brienne smiled.

“Podrick,” Catelyn called, drawing a tall dark-haired man from the reading corner by the back door. Brienne saw that it wasn’t huge but there were quite a few books and an area with cushions and blankets for reading. Podrick was holding a few books which he dropped upon seeing Brienne. “This is Brienne.”

Podrick nodded, hurriedly approaching. He extended his hand and Brienne took it, admiring the strong grip. “Wonderful to meet you. I’m the TA for your class.”

“Excellent,” Brienne declared. Catelyn smiled at her.

“Right, I will leave you to it. I hope you have a wonderful first morning. I will pop in at lunchtime to check how things are going.”

“Thank you, Catelyn,” Brienne said and the headteacher gave her a kind smile before leaving Brienne’s classroom. The click of the door signalled her leaving. Brienne exhaled and looked around her classroom again with a smile. She was a teacher again.

**XXX**

The children were a challenge but Brienne had a masters in behaviour management for a reason. She dealt with them as well as she possibly could through the activities she had planned in order for them to get to know each other better. Podrick was a great help though slightly clumsy. The children, especially the girls, adored him. 

When eleven o clock hit and playtime started, Brienne had mixed feelings to see the children leave the room. She could not believe she had done nearly two years away from this. Teaching again was like a breath of fresh air but it was tiring. “I’ll set up our next activity, Brienne,” Podrick said, “if you go and get us a cup of tea from the staffroom.” Brienne smiled, the thought of a cup of tea suddenly all-consumingly wonderful. “I’m milk and three sugars.”

Brienne nodded and left the room, enjoying the gust of air she received as she walked into the corridor and past the open door to the infants’ playground. She passed Sansa’s classroom and spontaneously decided to ask if she wanted a cup of tea. Sansa literally groaned aloud and accepted, asking for just milk.

The staffroom was not empty when Brienne entered a moment later. A willowy woman with pretty strawberry blonde hair stood with the kettle in hand, talking with a tallish man with a jawline that would likely cut diamonds. Brienne swallowed and approached. The woman smiled at her immediately. “You must be Jeyne’s cover!” she cried and she had a pleasant voice. Brienne smiled, nodding.

“Brienne Tarth,” she said.

“I’m Margaery Tyrell,” the woman said. “I’m the reception class teacher, so I imagine we will be seeing rather a lot of each other.” Brienne smiled at that. She liked Margaery straight away. “This is Jaime Lannister, year five,” the younger woman said, gesturing to Jaime while she turned the kettle on to boil.

Jaime nodded at her. “Lannister?” Brienne said, her eyebrows raising. “As in-”

Margaery snorted and met eyes with Jaime, who rolled his eyes lightly. Brienne narrowed hers at him. “Sansa is married to Jaime’s brother.”

“Oh,” Brienne said, nodding a bit awkwardly. Jaime gave her a smile that hardly even counted. His lips barely turned upwards. Brienne ignored him. “Is there enough water in that kettle for three teas?”

Margaery confirmed that there was. “Hey, you go back to your classroom,” Margaery said with a smile. “We’ll bring them down for you. Who are they for?”

Brienne reeled off the three tea orders with a grateful smile and then sped back off to her classroom where Podrick had nearly finished setting out the portrait-drawing activity already. Brienne gave him a winning smile and took over from him, asking him to find the felt-tips. When the teas arrived in the hands of Jaime Lannister five or so minutes later, the classroom was entirely ready for the children’s return. Brienne smiled as he delivered her tea with milk and one sugar.

“Thank you,” she said, inhaling the warmth of the tea. Jaime gave her another half-smile and then glanced at her portrait activity.

“Nice,” he commented with half a smirk.

Brienne rolled her eyes. “I suppose you think it’s a waste of time.”

Jaime shook his head, glancing around the room. “No, it’s a nice way of getting to know your class. It’s important to know what they think of themselves.” Brienne smiled. She had the same opinion. “I’m just rather jealous that I have to go back and teach dividing fractions while you get to watch over them drawing terrible pictures.”

Brienne laughed. “Yes, I think I get the better half of that deal.”

Jaime opened his mouth to speak again but then his eyes hit the clock. He gave her yet another half-smile. “I have to get back.”

And, then, he left, taking his glorious chin and general wonderful facial features with him. Brienne sipped her tea and winced, finding it too hot. Placing it on the desk, she strode over to the door, ready to welcome in her red-cheeked five-year-olds from the cold, putting all thoughts of Jaime Lannister and his tea and his fractions and his half-smiles out of her mind. She had a job to do.

**XXX**

By the end of the day, Brienne loved her class and knew at least half of their names. With their portraits stuck up above their coat pegs by Brienne during her lunch and the Gruffalo read and some leaf-rubbings completed, the day had been pretty much perfect for the children. Tomorrow, teaching would start properly. Nerves bubbled in Brienne’s stomach. She looked over the planning that Jeyne had left her. She would be teaching rounding to 100 in the morning and the rain cycle in the afternoon, with some guided reading and handwriting lessons mixed in with some story time.

Podrick had been wonderful. Having someone who knew each child and knew the classroom and the school in general had been invaluable. She would not have got through the day without him. He was of far more use than the teaching assistants she had had in the past.

Gathering her laptop and planner, Brienne told Podrick that he was going to see Sansa to discuss the topic planning. Podrick nodded and informed her that he would tidy the classroom before he headed home. Brienne thanked him earnestly and slipped out of her classroom.

Sansa had a cup of tea ready for her. They sat together at one of the round tables, Brienne struggling on the small chairs. For two hours, they discussed the best way to go about finishing the topic of the rain cycle and then moving onto two weeks of Christmas stories from different cultures. They planned the final week, which Jeyne had not quite finished, and then discussed the Romans, which would be their first topic upon their return after Christmas.

By the time they had made vague plans for each week, it was five o’ clock and Sansa asked if they could finish the next day, so that she could get some marking done before she returned home to Tyrion.  _ Tyrion _ , the name played in Brienne’s mind as she left. The brother of Jaime.

Podrick had turned the lights off in the classroom before leaving, so Brienne flicked them back on. The sun had long set outside, leaving dark shadows to be cast against Brienne’s windows. Brienne closed each blind slowly before sitting down at her desk to go over tomorrow’s planning again. She wanted everything to be perfect. These children deserved her to be at her very best.

She sat there for close to an hour, reading over and amending the next week’s planning. Then, she looked over the provision sheets she had for her behaviourally challenged children. At quarter to seven, there was a knock at her door. Brienne looked up and caught sight of the clock. She hadn’t realised quite how late it was getting. She logged out of her laptop as the knocker emerged.

It was Jaime Lannister. Brienne’s stomach did something funny at the sight of him. “Hi,” she said a bit shyly. He gave her a genuine smile with teeth. He even had attractive teeth. How irritating.

“Hi. The caretaker is kicking us out,” he commented idly, leaning against one of the book trays at the side of the room. Brienne nodded quickly, closing the lid of her laptop and slipping it into the case. Today’s activities meant there was nothing to be marked so she did not need to take any books home.

Brienne stood. “Are we the only ones left?”

Jaime nodded. “Margaery and Gilly left about ten minutes ago.”

They walked out together. Jaime held the door open for Brienne while she turned off the lights and locked the door. He had a messenger bag slung over one shoulder and a bag for life full of large yellow books in his hand. “You going home to marking?” Brienne asked, nodding at the books.

Jaime nodded and snorted. “Nothing else to go home to.” Something fluttered inside Brienne but she said nothing. “I think marking thirty maths books while watching Corrie is the perfect way to spend my evening.” Brienne breathed out a laugh. “What about you, Tarth?” he said. “What are you going home to?”

Brienne thought about her empty house. “I have a book I want to finish,” she said, imagining the book on her coffee table. There were only about a hundred pages left to read, so she might finish it tonight before I’m a Celebrity started. She would have to get home soonish.

Jaime barked a laugh. “At least I’m not the only one with sad plans.”

Brienne gave him a dirty look. “I’d take reading a book over watching Coronation Street any day of the week,” she said, curling her lip. Jaime furrowed his brow at her.

“Coronation Street is the hallmark of British television and an excellent television show with wonderful characterisation. I will take no insults.” Brienne had to stem her laughter. “What book are you reading?” he asked curiously.

Brienne shrugged as if to brush it off. “It’s just a novel about the Nazis in Italy.” Jaime’s eyebrows shot up.

“Sounds interesting. Fiction?” Brienne nodded. Jaime stuck his bottom lip out in consideration. Brienne’s eyeline got stuck there. They reached the door and Brienne used the keys that Catelyn had delivered during her half-hour lunch to let them out. Once out, the caretaker, a stoic older man called Davos Seaworth, grumbled after them.

Jaime walked her to her car, despite his heavy load of books. It was freezing out and pitch black. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” Jaime said with a smile once she was in her car.

Before closing her door, Brienne gave him a smile. “See you.”

When Brienne got home at twenty past seven, she made a cup of tea and looked between the tv remote and her book. She was desperate to finish her book and, yet, somehow, she picked up the remote and put on ITV. It was an advert break but, soon, the iconic music of Coronation Street began and Brienne’s stomach fluttered, glancing at her book. She could read it between episodes and after I’m a Celebrity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tomorrow: a protective brother


	3. Disapproving Siblings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Galladon of Tarth lived and married a warrior woman called Maerye. When their sister's ransom is sent for, they go to find her. What they find is not what they expected.

They reached the edge of King’s Landing, exhausted and sullen, surrounded by soldiers and men who found a Kingslayer without a hand hilarious and a woman knight even more so. Jaime felt rage swell in him at the disrespect - but he had lost his hand and, thus, his ability to inflict fear. His stump ached.

Jaime glanced to his side, finding Lady Brienne scowling as usual. Jaime was not sure he had ever seen her smile, not even when he had bared his soul to her in the baths at Harrenhal or when he had saved her from a bear pit. It almost felt as though she had not bared her soul in the same way, that lack of a smile. Jaime knew Brienne the knight but, despite having seen her tits and cunt, Jaime wasn’t sure he knew Brienne the woman.

And he hated that.

He probably wasn’t going to get a chance now, all things considered. They would arrive at King’s Landing and she would take Sansa and leave. Jaime would likely never see her again. His heart and stump ached together, as though it was not just his arm that was missing its most vital part.

Jaime wanted to speak to her, just so that he could see her eyes flash. She truly did have incredible eyes. Perhaps Jaime could even make her smile, just once. He’d never forget her smile. He’d never forget her scowl, if truth were told.

It was dark, Jaime realised, his heart quickening with a sudden plan. Perhaps he would stay one more night away from his family. Cersei’s bed would be just as warm the next day, perhaps even more so if he did not break her from her slumber. Jaime called to the soldier leading them. When Jaime assured him that his father would give him no reward for waking him at night, he agreed to camp one last time before approaching Tywin Lannister in the morning.

With a little smirk on his face, Jaime approached Brienne to tell her the news. She nodded once and Jaime knew that she likely only considered the fact that it was one more day away from Sansa. For Jaime, it was one more day with Brienne, before she took herself and her acceptance of Jaime’s truth away from him forever.

“Are you so eager to say goodbye to me?” Jaime teased and she didn’t reply, just met his eyes. Jaime swallowed at the intensity of her gaze. Perhaps she did feel as he did.

They lay together later on that night, by the campfire on mats. Jaime regaled Brienne with stories to irritate her, to make her laugh and to make her smile. He was fairly certain he only succeeded in the first. Finally, he gave up and lay in silence. If she wanted this evening to be quiet, he would give it to her. The one person in the world who thought well of him could continue doing so.

“Jaime,” she murmured, a few moments later, and Jaime started. It was the first time she had called her by his given name without the ‘ser’ in front of it. He met her blue eyes. “I am not eager to say goodbye to you.”

Jaime’s heart stopped. His stomach squirmed and his mind went into overdrive. His lips parted and he went to speak when she rolled over to her other side, taking her words and her eyes with her. He didn’t know what to say anyway. Brienne’s gasp pulled Jaime out of his self-pity.

She jumped up immediately, her sword swinging out from her belt. Jaime followed her up though he had no sword and no hand with which to wield it. He looked around wildly as she carefully scanned their surroundings. She had clearly seen or heard something that Jaime had not and Jaime trusted her instincts. He glanced around the camp, wondering whether he should wake the other soldiers when Brienne dropped her sword. It landed with a dull thud on her mat. Jaime narrowed his eyes at the back of her head.

“Gal,” she breathed and moved forward. Two figures emerged from the woods that surrounded them, one a head taller than Brienne and the other a head shorter than Jaime. Brienne embraced both in turn. Awkwardly, Jaime picked up Brienne’s sword and leaned on it. The taller figure was quite clearly some relation of Brienne’s. He was bigger and uglier and he stared at her like she had hung the moon and the stars. The other was a woman with a sword at her waist, ridiculously pretty with big eyes and pretty lips and brown braided hair.

“We were going to attack you and see if you had improved,” the woman said, a teasing tone in her voice, “but you beat us to it by jumping up the second Gal moved out of a shadow.”

The man -  _ Gal _ \- rolled his eyes. “Yes, my lovely sister has got even better at swordplay. Shocking.” Brienne laughed and Jaime watched the way it transformed her face. He could see the sparkle in her eyes in the moonlight. His lips parted. He was so glad he got to see this before they separated.

“What are you doing here?” Brienne asked breathlessly. Her smile was so big, her teeth were so big. She was so uncouth. They were all so uncouth in their affection. Jaime’s heart ached.

“We got a bloody request for your ranson. What do you think we’re doing here?”

Jaime looked down. Brienne’s brother had come to free her, to save her, as soon as the ransom request had arrived. Jaime wondered if Cersei would do the same for him and then nearly snorted. He’d been gone over a year and she quite clearly had not come to get him. But it was different. Cersei was not a soldier, not a man. But Cersei supposedly loved him more than as a brother. Jaime’s stomach tightened uncomfortably.

“Who’s this?” the woman demanded, giving Jaime a dismissive look. Brienne glanced back at him and for a split second Jaime got to experience that amazing smile she had gifted her brother with in his direction. Jaime’s smile rose on his face, pulling his cheeks in either direction without any clear conscious thought.

“This is Jaime Lannister,” Brienne said quietly. Jaime stood, stoic, wondering if she was ashamed of him. Not that she would have reason to be because he was nothing to her and she was nothing to him. Captor and captive and then captives together. Nothing more. Perhaps she was ashamed of her own actions though she had no reason to be. Perhaps she was ashamed of showing Jaime her tits and cunt.

Perhaps she wasn’t ashamed at all and Jaime knew nothing about her. That seemed the most likely.

“Jaime Lannister?” the girl repeated. Jaime twirled himself on Brienne’s sword, rolling his eyes.

“Do say it louder, love. I’d quite like to see the wench defend me again,” Jaime said, pairing it with a slow wink in Brienne’s direction. He knew it would rile up Brienne’s brother but he was quite bored of judgement without deserving it.

“Call her that again and I’ll shove this in your throat,” the girl said, brandishing a deadly looking dagger. Jaime wondered if the pretty woman would be able to. He wondered whether he would resist. The man - Brienne’s brother - stood silently beside her, surprising Jaime. If someone had insulted Cersei in front of him-

Jaime stopped. It was time to stop with that comparison before he said something out of turn.

“Leave it, Maerye,” Brienne said, reaching for the dagger with her hand. The girl - Maerye - tucked it into her sword belt, fixing Jaime with a glare that he did not truly believe himself deserving of. “How did you find us?”

“ _ Us _ ?” Maerye commented. Brienne’s brother ignored her.

“We heard some rumours and decided to follow them.”

Jaime glanced at Brienne warily though she did not look at him. “Yes, you should hear the names they’re calling you in the taverns, sister,” Maerye said. Jaime barked out a laugh and received a look from Brienne. There was no possible way these two women were sisters.

“She is half your ungainly size and far more attractive,” Jaime said. Brienne only pursed her lips and looked away. Jaime watched Gal’s lips curl and his face flushed with anger, just as Brienne did. Jaime’s smirk unfurled.

“Leave him, Gal,” Brienne muttered. “He’s not worth it.” Jaime didn’t let his smirk fall even as her words hit him in the chest.

“They say you’re his whore,” Maerye said bluntly, as she seemed to do everything.

“ _ Do _ they?” Jaime said, utterly delighted with this information. Brienne looked at him and she was absolutely mortified, her face a picture, red and her jaw having dropped. Jaime grinned wildly. “Well, I do wonder what started that.”

“Piss off,” Brienne spat but nothing could dull his buoyant mood, not that she was ashamed of him or didn’t think he was worthy of her brother’s anger. The people of Westeros believed that the Maid of Tarth was Jaime’s whore.

“They also say someone shoved her in a bear pit.”

That was Brienne’s brother. He had the same disapproving look as Brienne. It was quite disconcerting but it did highlight to Jaime all of Brienne’s womanly ways. “Well, I suppose there’s truth in every lie. What did they say happened?” This was most excellent. There hadn’t been any good tales about Jaime in years. 

Gal shot him a cool look. “You jumped down and fought the bear with one hand and no weapon to save your lady love’s life.”

Jaime sighed and glanced at Brienne, tutting. “They missed the dress. The dress was the best part.” Brienne glared at him. Jaime turned back to Gal and Maerye, who was surely not Brienne’s true sister. Surely she had been adopted or had adopted herself into the family. “They put her in this pink dress with a fur lining. It really adds to the tale, don’t you think? Makes her a proper damsel in distress and me a proper knight in shining armour.” Bitterness crept into his voice and Jaime forced his glee back.

“They truly put you in a bearpit, Brienne?” Maerye said, her pretty face distorting with horror. Jaime mentally clicked his fingers as he realised that she was quite clearly his goodsister. He was too slow, too long behind bars, without clever company. He needed to spend a good few weeks with his brother to sharpen the mind.

Brienne nodded, shooting yet another glare at Jaime as though him saving her from a bearpit was a sin. “Yes. They were expecting a ransom of sapphires and received 300 gold dragons.”

Jaime squawked when he realised she was blaming him for that. He practically heard Brienne’s neck snap as she turned towards him. “You cannot truly be blaming me for that. I said that your island had sapphires to save you from being  _ raped _ . Yes, then they put you in a bearpit but being that I  _ also _ saved you from that, I really do not think you have anything to glare at me about.”

“Your presence is enough reason,” she shot back immediately. Jaime rolled his eyes, knowing that to be a lie. Hoping that to be a lie. When they turned back from their argument to Maerye and Gal - who were quite clearly married, how had it taken so long for Jaime to figure it out, he was hovering all over her - they found them watching them curiously. “What are you going to do now?” Brienne asked.

Gal shook off his confusion and, glancing at Jaime, said, “we’re taking you home.”

_ No _ . Jaime had worked hard to have one last night with the wench and they were  _ ruining _ it. Why could they not have arrived in the morning? Jaime would have still had his heart warmed by the wench’s smile but could have had a full evening of teasing her rather than the half-assed effort he’d had.

“I am not going home,” Brienne said, affronted, and Jaime’s mind celebrated. Them being stood opposite the other couple solidified the comforting feeling of Brienne and Jaime being a team, against Brienne’s brother and goodsister, against the bear, against anyone and everyone who had a word to say or a sword to put against either of them. Jaime’s heart bloody well soared at the prospect.

Ignoring that, Jaime added to Brienne’s comment, “she is not going home.”

Gal and Maerye shared a worried look and then Gal said, “she is not staying with you, kingslayer.”

“Enough, Galladon,” Brienne snapped and Jaime liked to think it was because of the mention of Jaime’s moniker. Jaime also liked that Brienne had provided him with a full name for Gal. Gal was rather informal for a man he barely knew and most likely had reason to respect, as a member of the house that had delivered him to King’s Landing. 

“You do not know him, Brienne,” Galladon hissed and Maerye nodded her stupid little head beside him. “You do not know what he has done. Father received a letter from Stannis Baratheon-”

Brienne scoffed. “I do not care for anything that man has to say and I assure you that I know all he has done and that you do not. And none of that matters anyhow. I made a vow to Lady Catelyn Stark that I would deliver him to King’s Landing in exchange for her daughters. I will not break my vow.”

“Lady Catelyn Stark is dead,” Maerye said. Brienne nodded and her eyes flashed. Jaime remembered the howl she had made when she had heard. He swallowed heavily.

“I know,” Brienne said, “but her daughters are not and, thus, neither is my vow.”  _ Honour _ .

Galladon sighed. “Her daughter is married to Tyrion Lannister.”

At that, Jaime choked. “Which daughter?”

“Sansa,” Maerye said with a dirty look at him. “Thinking of fucking this sister too?”

“Maerye!” Galladon and Brienne cried simultaneously. Jaime blanched. That cleared up the contents of Stannis’ letter. He truly did not know what to say to that. He had never had someone so bluntly confront him about fucking Cersei, not since his little brother had tried once.

“I don’t care if Sansa is married with a baby on the way,” Brienne said harshly. Jaime hoped that was not the case. “I am going to get her out of King’s Landing and take her to safety.”

Galladon and Maerye shared a look. “Fine. We’ll take Sansa to safety and then you  _ will _ come home to Tarth.”

Brienne did not argue, Jaime noticed.

**XXX**

“Lord Galladon,” Joffrey cried. Jaime winced as his son’s voice cracked. His balls had not even dropped yet and he was king. It was ridiculous. Galladon of Tarth stood, alone, without his blunt mouthy little wife Maerye and without his wonderful sister. Jaime was clean shaven and felt more awake and alive than he had in months. Galladon stood tall and proud, wearing his house colours, his house sword at his hip.

“My lord uncle has stated House Tarth as his protector during his captivity,” Joffrey said, his stupid little face morphing as he raised an eyebrow. Jaime stood stock still. He could feel Cersei’s glare. The “Kingslayer’s Whore” rumours had reached court. A lover returning without a hand, with a newly grown conscience and a rumour suggesting he had risked his life more than once for a woman who was the antithesis of who he had had before was not conducive to picking things up where they had been left.

“Yes, your grace, that is accurate,” Galladon said. Joffrey nodded slowly.

“For your great works towards the crown and my family, the crown offers the House of Tarth the seat of Storm’s End, taken from the attempted usurper Stannis Baratheon.”

Galladon’s shock could be felt in the room. Jaime tried to tightly control his own. Storm’s End was a big seat, making the previous lords of Tarth one of the major families in Westeros. “Your grace, thank you most sincerely. What- your grace, what will be done for Tarth?” Jaime inhaled sharply. This man had more balls than sense. The same could almost be said for Brienne, except that Jaime was fully aware that she had no balls, because he had seen her lovely cunt for himself.

“You have siblings, Lord Galladon?”

“Yes, your grace, a sister,” Galladon said and he glanced at Jaime. Jaime could have hit him.

Joffrey waved his hand dismissively. “Then she and her heirs may control Tarth after your father. I expect you to control Storm’s End and your father to remain in Tarth through his old age.” Jaime heard the message behind that: your father is old and useless - you control my armies in the Stormlands.

“Yes, your grace, of course.”

Galladon bowed as Joffrey dismissed him.

A few hours later, when Joffrey had finished holding court, Jaime escaped and went in search of Brienne, who he found in her chambers. “Nice rooms,” he said as he entered the small but quaint blue chambers. She rolled her eyes and took a seat in one of two armchairs in front of a window. Taking the other, Jaime glanced outside to see the red-roofed city beyond. “I suppose I should call you something fancy like my lady of Tarth now.”

Brienne snorted. “Yes, please do. I’ll start calling you my lord of Casterly Rock.”

Jaime shook his head. “I am a kingsguard and have renounced my titles. You will have to settle for Ser Jaime.”

Brienne sobered and her throat bobbed. “I did not want this.”

“I know.”

“My future is gone.”

Jaime shook his head. “It’s a new future.”

“One where men will come asking for my hand for my island and never for me.” Jaime’s chest twinged. “I will have to marry and bear children while my husband gallivants around my island fucking the whores in the brothels and endearing my people to him.”

Jaime swallowed. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“He’s my-”

“Don’t.”

Jaime swallowed. “Your people are going to adore their fighting lady, far more than some useless whore-fucking lord, who will likely be too dumb to know where to stick his cock.” Brienne’s lips twitched.

“You’ve gone soft, Ser Jaime,” she said quietly. Jaime let his lips turn towards the heavens.

He turned to her, most sincerely, and said, “I assure you, Lady Brienne, I never go soft.”

She cried out and threw a cushion at him. Jaime snickered and grinned. Her cheeks were flushed but her eyes danced with amusement. She opened her mouth and Jaime was desperate to know how she was going to respond - when they were interrupted.

Of course.

Maerye came in, her signature braid swinging wildly as though she had walked her very quickly. Jaime wondered who had reported his presence. He had hardly had a moment alone with the wench since her brother and goodsister turned up. One or both of them were always interrupting with their blunt words and filthy looks.

“Brienne,” Maerye said, a bit breathlessly. “You should have a chaperone.”

Brienne narrowed her eyes. Jaime’s lips quirked at the idea that he could take advantage of her, with one hand, inferior height and no weapon. “Maerye, this is ridiculous.”

Maerye shook her head. “I admit I do not know much about court politics, Brienne, but you are going to be lady of Tarth now and Tarth needs heirs, which you must provide-”

“-or you could-” Brienne interjected.

“- and no man is going to want to marry a woman who has sullied herself with the Kingslayer.”

Jaime pretended the words didn’t hurt. “Sullied herself,” he repeated, wrinkling his nose. “I will leave your wondrous presence, my lady of Tarth,” Jaime said, standing and mocking a bow to her and then to Maerye, “and my lady of Storm’s End.” Maerye’s eyes flashed. “Next time, I will ensure that we find you to serve as our chaperone to protect Brienne’s  _ lovely _ virtue.” Jaime sent a heating look Brienne’s way, focussing first on her breasts and then on the apex of her thighs, before smirking at Maerye and leaving via the open door.

**XXX**

“What did that mean?” Maerye demanded as soon as Jaime had left the room. Brienne sighed.

“Maerye, I am a grown woman who can fight her own battles. Please stop treating me like a child. You are barely a year older than me.”

Maerye nodded, her braid twitching. “I know, but, Brienne, you left to serve Renly and we were well aware that you were in love with him and then we hear that you killed him - of course we did not believe that - but then you ran up north with Catelyn Stark and then we received your ransom and then the next we heard you were the Kingslayer’s Whore. I’m just worried about you. I’m your goodsister - do I not have that right?”

“I appreciate it must have been difficult,” Brienne allowed, refusing to apologise for the adventure she had craved and received, though it had been difficult and at times agonising.

Maerye sighed and took Jaime’s seat. Brienne glanced out of the window, wondering where he had gone, wishing Maerye had not interrupted them. “I just think you should watch yourself around him. What sort of a man beds his own sister?”

Brienne winced. The thought disgusted her but she did not let it consume her. “You do not know him, Maerye, nor do you know his sister. I have nothing to fear from Jaime.”

Maerye gives her a sad look. “Brienne, you have too much to lose to get involved with the Kingslayer.”

The thought of getting involved with Jaime was amusing and, so, Brienne laughed in the face of her future.

**XXX**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh this is so unfinished
> 
> It's half past ten here and I wanted this all to be one prompt but I've had to split it into two because it's nine pages long and I do not have the energy to write another nine today. This will be finished on day 6
> 
> I hope you like it! I don't see much in this fandom about what if Galladon lived so I thought I'd do it - and then I created his wife and she sort of took over. As you will learn in the second half, she's sort of amazing
> 
> Tomorrow we're going to have the next segment of the teachers au, featuring a cup of tea in the staffroom


	4. Talk of the Playground: Teachers AU Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More antics from Teachers!Brienne and Jaime

Brienne rubbed her hands together as she darted out of her classroom. The children had just left for lunch with their dinner lady and she wanted to make the most of the half an hour she had free. Her lunch was already set up on her desk. All it required was a cup of tea. Passing Sansa’s classroom and hearing the peaceful, classical music, Brienne smiled slightly.

It had been such a lovely first week. The children were rowdy but they always were in the festive season and Brienne had been trained specially in behaviour management and the more time she spent with her class the more she knew how to deal with their naughtiness. Podrick was always a help and Sansa was a source of inexhaustible advice. Everyone was wonderful.

Slipping into the staffroom, Brienne found the member of staff who made her smile the most, Mr Jaime Lannister. Even Brienne’s five-year-olds giggled over how pretty Jaime Lannister was. As well as being unnaturally attractive, the year five teacher was funny and efficient. “Hello,” he said, seeing her. Even his voice was gravelly and appealing. He turned from the counter, his hand holding two mugs. Brienne’s smile spread with ease when she realised one was for her. “Milk, one sugar.”

Brienne took the mug, in the turquoise mug she preferred and cuddled it to herself. It was quite perfect. “Thank you,” she said. “How did you-”

“How did I know you would come to the staffroom for a brew at lunch time?” he said and he sounded amused. “You come here every day.”

Brienne flushed lightly. She had not realised she was so predictable. She leaned against the back of one of the green-cushioned chairs and brought the mug to her lips, enjoying the warmth against her face though it was too hot to drink. Jaime leaned against the counter, crossing his legs at the ankle. His trousers fit his thighs very nicely.

He took a sip of his tea. Brienne had noticed quite quickly that he had what her father used to call asbestos mouth, that is he could drink any drink at any temperature without complaint. As a teacher, it was a very handy trait to have, making it easy to sneak a brew in short breaks. “It would be nice if this were a beer,” Jaime commented offhandedly.

Brienne snorted, looking into her mug of tea. It was the perfect colour. “Yes, I quite agree,” Brienne said. “There would be nothing nicer than going back to my classroom to mark my books with a beer.”

Jaime chuckled. “I think having a beer in a pub without any thoughts of school or Ofsted would be nicer, don’t you?” Brienne laughed, meeting his eyes. “Nice use of time, by the way, doing your marking over lunch. Key time-saving tactic.”

“I learn quickly.” They stood in silence for a few moments. Brienne snuggled into the warmth of it. She could stand with Jaime like this and not feel compelled to speak. It was a very enjoyable feeling, though part of her brain was itching to return to her work, well aware of the mammoth workload she already had that evening. If she could get this marking out of the way, it would be time well spent.

She looked up, about to excuse herself, noticing Jaime opening his mouth, likely for the same reason, when Beth, the reception teaching assistant, rushed in. “Oh, good, Brienne,” she said with a sigh. “You’d better come. There’s an incident on the infants’.”

Brienne put her mug down immediately. The clink of their mugs together signified Jaime doing the same. “I’ll help.” Brienne’s insides warmed as though she had just finished a cup of tea. With a shared smile, they turned to follow Beth out of the staffroom, towards the infants’ playground.

XXX

Jaime could have sworn when Beth Cassel had interrupted his stolen moment with Brienne. When his teaching assistant Pia had released him to go and make a cup of tea while she set up the art activity they were completing that afternoon, Jaime had taken it as the perfect opportunity to win Brienne over. He’d brought up beers in the hope of asking her to go out with him for one. He’d opened his mouth to ask and Beth had interrupted. Perhaps it was fate saying don’t ruin the easy friendship you’ve got going, Jaime. Or perhaps it was nothing and he should just try again in a few days.

Either way, following her was not a good way of convincing him to slow things down. She dealt with the fight on the infants’ playground with control and poise. She spoke clearly to each of the three boys who appeared to have ganged up on a smaller boy. All four were part of Brienne’s year one class. Who knew children were so violent so young?

But, after she had been so controlled and strong with the three misbehaving boys, she turned to the other, who was crying, and comforted him excellently. He had stopped crying and was ready to go and play again. It was like watching an art form. “Come on, boys,” she said when the crier had gone to join some of his friends in a skipping game. She spoke softly to the bullies, even after their actions, as they escorted them to the headmistress’ office. Jaime knew that he did not have the patience to work with children so young. It took a special sort of person.

When Catelyn had accepted the boys into her office with the promise of returning them at the end of lunchtime, Jaime heard Brienne sigh with relief. “Did I deal with that okay?” she asked quietly. Jaime blinked.

“Okay?” he repeated, dumbfounded. Could she truly not see how wonderful she was? “That was like watching a master.” Brienne flushed and Jaime’s lips twitched. “Are you just fishing for compliments, you arrogant wench?” Jaime teased.

She whipped her head in his direction as they began to walk towards the staffroom again. “I am doing no such thing!”

Jaime shook his head. “Brienne, I was teasing.” She nodded and Jaime considered his next words carefully. “You know, when they said you were able to start early, I thought you were going to be rubbish.” Her whole face screwed up, her lips parted and her nostrils flared. Jaime’s lips twitched. “Not many good teachers do not have a job in December, even if they are starting a new one in January.” She was silent at that. “I was wrong, just so you know. You’re wonderful.”

She blushed furiously. “Thank you,” she stuttered, opening the door to the staffroom. They found their teas there, untouched, but there were others in the staffroom, two gossipy nursery assistants. Jaime headed straight back out, Brienne following. 

Heading further away from his classroom and the work he should have been doing, towards the younger classes, Jaime asked, “why did you not have a job?”

She bit her lip and Jaime almost wanted to retract his question, to apologise. He’d only known her a week. Perhaps the reason was personal. Just as he opened his mouth to tell her not to feel obliged to answer, she said, “my father was ill. I found out two years ago, so I quit my job in the January and have been nursing him ever since. He died in September.”

Jaime’s lips parted and he stopped outside her classroom door. “Brienne,” he sighed.

She shook her head. “It was a long time in coming. He’s not been well for a long time. I trained as a nurse before doing my teacher training and I figured that having that training meant that I could do what lots of people don’t get to do, truly help my father as he lived his final months. I’d been a teacher for four years before I left, had got my masters and I loved it, but it was something I felt I had to do.”

“That’s amazing,” Jaime said honestly. Her hand was on the handle of her classroom. Jaime didn’t know if it was her feeling anxious and wanting to touch something or if it was her getting ready to escape him. Perhaps all of Jaime’s feelings were one-sided. “I- I’d better let you go,” he said.

She bobbed her head up and down a few times. “Bye,” she whispered, opening the door and disappearing quickly. Jaime sighed and headed back up to the other side of the school, sipping his tea and finding it cold. Grimacing, he abandoned the mug in the staffroom and set off back to work.

XXX

“Where do you think your mum is, Elisabeth?” Jaime asked the little girl from his class as they stood on the porch by the juniors’ entrance, sheltering from the rain. She shrugged. Her face was completely fallen. Elisabeth’s mum had not been late before so it was likely a one off occurrence. Even so, no child liked being the last. “How about we go and find something fun to do while we wait?” Elisabeth nodded a bit despondently. Jaime patted her on the shoulder and led her back to his classroom, where he collected his laptop bag.

They left the classroom and walked past the main hall and the IT suite. “Where are we going, Mister Lannister?” Elisabeth asked, big brown eyes looking up at him. Jaime grinned.

“To the fun kiddy classrooms.”

Elisabeth knocked on Brienne’s classroom door and then they walked in, not even waiting for her to shout her acceptance of their entrance. “Miss Tarth, would it be alright if Elisabeth and I waited in your lovely classroom while we wait for her mother to arrive?”

Brienne smiled and nodded at Elisabeth. “Would you be able to help me setting up the maths activity for tomorrow, Elisabeth?” Brienne asked kindly. Elisabeth nodded enthusiastically. Jaime smiled, adjusting his laptop bag’s strap on his shoulder. The little girl approached Brienne who had lots of resources cut out on one round table. Deciding he didn’t want to sit on the very small kiddy chairs, Jaime approached Brienne’s desk and shifted her laptop slightly so that he could fit his on there. It started up slowly.

While it did, Jaime looked up to watch Brienne deal with the enthusiastic Elisabeth. Elisabeth loved helping teachers. This was probably the perfect evening activity for her. She might even be thanking her mother for being late when she finally arrived. Soon enough, Brienne caught his eye and narrowed her striking blue ones.

“You didn’t want to help me, Mister Lannister?” she asked, teasing in her tone. Jaime’s lips twitched.

“No, I’m quite happy doing some real work, Miss Tarth,” Jaime replied. She gasped dramatically and shared a look with Elisabeth, who began to giggle. Brienne picked up a whiteboard pen from one of the trug trays in the centre of the table and lobbed it at Jaime’s head, hitting him on the forehead before Jaime even moved.

Spluttering, Jaime rubbed his forehead with one hand and reached to pick up the whiteboard pen with his other, bending down beneath the desk. He rolled it between his finger and thumb. “You’ve started a war here, Tarth.” She smiled and it sparkled behind her eyes, transforming them into pools of water, twinkling under moonlight.

“Bring it on, Lannister,” she replied, winking at Elisabeth, and Jaime smirked. It was a shame the child was there. He really would have enjoyed  _ bringing it on _ .

Jaime got little work done for the next half an hour, too distracted by watching Brienne interact with Elisabeth and make her feel useful although she was undoubtedly slowing the process down. Jaime watched her and marvelled at the fact that no one had married her. She would be the most excellent wife and mother. She was so caring. Her nursing training shone through in every action.

Jaime was smiling softly at the thought when the door went to Brienne’s classroom. Elisabeth’s mother appeared a few seconds later, crying “Lizzie!” Elisabeth’s face fell.

“Mum, I’m enjoying myself,” she complained and Jaime chuckled, leaning back against the chair.

“I am so sorry, Miss Tarth, Mister Lannister,” Mrs Waters said, stroking her daughter’s face. “I hope she has been no bother.”

“No bother to me,” Brienne said brightly, “and certainly none to Mister Lannister.” Jaime’s smile grew through a small chuckle. Brienne shot him a sparkly look with pursed lips. Jaime grinned.

“I was just doing some real work,” Jaime said, gesturing to the laptop in front of him. Brienne scowled and threw something at Jaime, hitting his laptop. Jaime pulled the laptop screen towards him and found the object she threw: a pencil sharpener.

“Miss Tarth!” Jaime gasped dramatically and he saw Brienne try and diminish her smile. Mrs Waters looked between the two of them with a knowing look, before thanking them again. She smiled at them, sweeping Elisabeth out of the room.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Elisabeth!” he called after them as the door clicked shut. Brienne threw a rubber at him, making Jaime chuckle happily.

The next morning at drop off time, Mister Lannister and Miss Tarth’s antics were the talk of the playground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tomorrow: Daenerys discovers that Sansa and Tyrion were once married and is insecure about how well they get on.


	5. A Surprise Wife

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daenerys finds out about Sansa and Tyrion's marriage

Anger burned inside Dany as she sat in the meeting room, listening to Tyrion discuss their plans for taking King’s Landing. The Long Night was over and Westeros was safe from the Others, but not from her hand’s evil sister. Dany could not wait to burn Cersei alive. But her anger for Cersei was always simmering; this was a new anger, a fresh one, built on betrayal and mistrust.

Because Dany’s hand had lied to her.

Dany knew that Tyrion had his secrets. Of course he did, he was a grown man and her hand, not her husband or her son. She expected there was much she did not know about his family and his romantic past. However, this was too much.

Tyrion Lannister had been married to Sansa Stark.

Dany was well aware that Sansa did not like her and Dany did not like Sansa. She was too cold and cold ferocity was a force to be reckoned with. Sansa did not seem to agree with anything Dany did. She always had better ideas, reasons why Dany’s plan wasn’t right. Sansa always knew Westeros better than Dany and it frustrated her no end.

And then there was the power she exerted over Tyrion.

At first, Dany had not noticed it. She assumed that Tyrion’s kindness to Lady Stark was normal, him assuring the Starks’ loyalty to her reign or him being aware of their power. Tyrion was also just a generally kind man. However, then, Dany had realised that it was more than that.

Tyrion smiled at Sansa. He would meet her eyes and smile. And she, the fierce ice bitch of the North, would smile back at him with warmth in her eyes. And Dany thought there might have been something going on between them.

So, she watched. She spoke with Missandei who told her about a conversation and a kiss on the hand in the crypts that peaked Dany’s curiosity and, finally, Dany asked Jon if his sister was sleeping with her hand.

Jon had choked with laughter, inciting Dany’s fury. He had not spoken to her in days and now found it acceptable to laugh in her presence. He did not sense her irrational anger but instead told Dany a story of an unloved second son and the child bride who was going to win his father the North. Dany knew that it was a sad story, she understood that it had not been what either of them wanted, but she still felt as though her hand should have told her, that it would have been key information when they had discussed the lords and ladies of Westeros.

Looking back, Dany could almost feel all the times Tyrion had avoided saying her name, avoided saying too much about her family. She wondered what he had thought.

“My Lord Hand,” the ice bitch’s voice said, interrupting Tyrion. Dany truly had no clue where they were at with the plans, too focussed on Tyrion and Sansa’s secretive little smiles. Tyrion looked at her as though she had not interrupted him in front of all the most important people in Winterfell, as though they were in their chamber together and she was going to discuss bedroom talk. Dany felt anger cloud her mind, a fog that blurred all.

“I agree that Cersei must die,” Sansa said, “but she is with child and I believe it to be immoral to kill a child.”

Tyrion nodded too quickly for Daenerys. She narrowed his eyes, looking between the two of them. Sansa Stark’s face was a mask but Dany noticed that she held her sworn sword’s hand under the table. An ugly woman, Brienne of Tarth was perhaps one of the most interesting people Dany had come across in Westeros. Ugly, honourable and sworn indefinitely to Sansa Stark, she was warming Jaime Lannister’s bed, a man who was undeniably attractive, incredibly dishonourable and a Lannister, a sworn enemy of the Starks. And the father of Cersei’s child.

Dany felt the fog of anger set on fire. There was something afoot here. Who had requested that Cersei be spared for her baby? Sansa, ostensibly, but she was holding Brienne’s hand. Was it comfort because Brienne wanted the baby to be spared? She was very honourable but this was her lover’s child with his sister. It was far more likely that Sansa was comforting her because of the mention of Jaime’s relationship with Cersei. Dany nodded. No one would want their lover’s child to survive.

It was not that much longer that Tyrion dismissed the meeting. Dany called for Sansa to stay, with as much of a real smile as she could muster. Sansa stayed but Dany saw her share a confused look with Tyrion, as though they could read each other’s mind.

When the door finally clicked behind Lady Brienne who had not wanted to leave her liege, Dany sat down and gestured for Sansa to sit too. “I wanted to talk to you, Lady Sansa.” Sansa did not smile. “Your relationship with my hand-”

“With Lord Tyrion?” Sansa interrupted and then she smiled, icy bitch. “Your grace, Lord Tyrion was my protector in King’s Landing and then my husband for a while. I am very fond of him and he feels protective towards me.”

Dany could have screamed. All the arguments she had just made in her head, all the mental shouting she had just practised and Sansa had cut her off and taken control of the situation herself. If Dany were not so furious, she would have respected her.

“I find it inappropriate,” Dany said, trying to get back onto the right foot. Sansa’s smile fell and her mask clamped back on, though Dany could see anger shining in those grey eyes. “You have an inappropriate amount of power over him that you use for your own gain.”

“You are discussing my request to save his niece or nephew’s life?” Sansa asked. Dany only glared. “You will find, your grace, that that request came from both Tyrion himself and my sworn sword. I assure you that I care very little for the life of Cersei’s child but Tyrion cared deeply for his nephews and niece before they died and Lady Brienne believed it would be cruel to kill a child, so I made the request. I do not believe it is an unreasonable request.”

“Did Lady Brienne request it or Ser Jaime?”

Sansa’s eyes narrowed. “Lady Brienne requested it. You may believe that a woman cannot lie with a man without becoming compromised but women are stronger than you think and we have our own opinions, not just those forced upon us by the man we are sleeping with.”

“Though Lord Tyrion did force his opinion of his brother’s child upon you,” Dany said.

Sansa dared to laugh, as Jon had. These Starks must have had a different childhood to Dany, to laugh so easily even in the most serious conversations. “Your grace, I was ten-and-three when I married Lord Tyrion. Our marriage was unconsummated.”

“And now?” Dany demanded. “My handmaid tells me he kissed you in the crypts.”

“He kissed my hand,” she said coldly, “and I find that it is none of your business whether Lord Tyrion and I are sleeping together or not.”

Defensive.

There was a knock on the door and the knocker did not wait for acceptance of his entrance before he barged in. It was Lord Tyrion. Sansa’s face did not even brighten, Dany noticed. She was furious. Dany nearly smiled.

“Oh, Lord Tyrion, we were just discussing you,” Sansa said, an intense look in her eyes as she looked at Dany for a few seconds before turning back to the dwarf. “Queen Daenerys was just asking if I exert an inappropriate level of control over you because I am warming your bed.”

Tyrion snorted. “You most certainly never warmed my bed. In fact, your tears and scowls made it far colder than it should have been.” Dany’s eyebrows fell close to her eyes.

“Well, you had another to warm your bed at the time,” Sansa said, her anger being replaced by amusement. It did not take long for Tyrion to take her from anger to amusement.

Tyrion chuckled. “Alas, not now, and nor is Sansa warming my bed, your grace,” her hand said, turning to Dany. Dany arched an eyebrow. “I have very fond feelings for Sansa. She is my wife but our union was forced and Sansa was only a child. She has her own life to live.”

“I  _ was _ your wife,” Sansa corrected. Tyrion turned to her with furrowed brows. “Lord Baelish annulled the marriage.”

“Oh, did he?” Tyrion asked and he was clearly surprised. His shock turned him to sarcasm. “Well, I did not get the raven.”

“What?” Sansa said. Panic rose in her voice. “I’ve been married since!”

“I forgive you,” Tyrion said, amused. Dany looked between the two of them. This had not been what she was expecting. “We can sort a true annulment, Sansa, provided you can resist sleeping with me.” That comment was directed at Dany and she did not appreciate his humour. He had kept this from her. That Sansa was still his wife made it a thousand times worse.

“We will sort an annulment immediately,” Dany announced and then Sansa would lose her control over Tyrion. It was understandable that he did what she said. She was his wife. 

As Sansa turned to look at Tyrion and they shared a sort of melancholy look, Dany realised that she was wrong and there would be no getting rid of Sansa’s control there, nor Tyrion’s affection for her. She almost sighed aloud. Was loyalty too much to ask for from the men in her life?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tomorrow: Galladon of Tarth is reunited with his sister - and very disappointed when he realises she is serious about the arrogant man who she is enamoured with


	6. Disapproving Siblings Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this goes okay - I'm on the coach to Bruges as we speak and I've not posted from my phone before!!

“Brienne!” Gal cried as he appeared in the yard, as big and full of life as ever. Brienne’s smile stretched across her face. Sansa’s head turned slightly towards Brienne with a little smile. Brienne stepped forward to intercept Gal’s hug, his chin resting on hers as he enveloped her in his arms. It had been a long time since she had known her brother’s hug.

Maerye crashed into them, her little arms spreading around them both. Brienne smiled and pulled out of the embrace, taking Maerye into her arms herself and pressing a soft kiss on each cheek. “Sister,” she said fondly. Maerye smiled without restraint.

“Sister,” Maerye said. “I have missed you.” The three toddling girls joined them then, twin four-year-olds Alysanne and Arianne, and the two-year-old Susanne, accompanied by an older woman who could only be their nanny. Brienne was introduced to each in turn and then she introduced her brother and goodsister to her liege, Sansa.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, my lady,” Maerye said with her awkward curtsey. Even after three years married to Galladon as heir to Tarth and four years as Lady of Storm’s End, her peasant ways had not evaded her. Brienne’s mouth twitched.

“And you, Lady Storm,” Sansa said, inclining her head and using the title that Gal and Maerye had adopted when they had taken Storm’s End. “It is a pleasure to have you at Winterfell. I’m afraid I have a meeting to get to. I would love to meet you properly with a dinner this evening.”

They accepted and then Sansa left with Lord Royce, leaving Brienne with her brother and goodsister and nieces. “Nice sword,” Gal said, drawing Brienne’s attention to the sword at her hip. A gift from Jaime. A shiver ran down Brienne’s spine.

“Nice armour,” Maerye added. Another gift from Jaime. The belt was engraved with lions and sunbursts. “Very- now, what’s the word I’m looking for, Gal?” Maerye said, tapping her chin with her finger.

“ _ Lannister _ ,” Gal finished. Brienne flushed. “In fact, looking at you, sister dearest, one would almost think you were a Lannister.”

Brienne snorted. Lannisters were unnaturally attractive. Brienne may be many things but attractive she was not. “Stop being silly.”

“Are you fucking Jaime Lannister?” Maerye demanded uncouthly. Brienne’s jaw dropped and she looked at Alysanne, Arianne and Susanne, then back at Maerye, who met her eyes without embarrassment.

“No,” Brienne denied furiously. And, even if she were, Brienne thought, she would not tell her goodsister and brother.

**XXX**

“You truly did not have to accompany me,” Brienne said as they arrived at Riverrun, the Lannister flags flying throughout the camp outside, and the Tully flag flying from the castle itself. Podrick gave her an uneasy look which Brienne shared. She had expected a Frey siege, not a Lannister one. She had not mentally prepared to see Jaime.

But perhaps it was not Jaime. There were many Lannisters. Any of them could be commanding the red and gold army. Just because it was a Lannister army did not mean it was commanded by Jaime Lannister.

Except, of course, that the Seven had some warped obsession with Brienne and liked to torture her with brief moments with Jaime before ripping them apart to other sides of Westeros. Which was what was going to happen here.

They found Bronn outside Jaime’s tent, after a long discussion of whether or not they should just sneak around the camp and enter the castle in secret. Brienne, having sent Podrick in to discover that it was Jaime commanding, knew that their best bet was getting permission from Jaime. She was sure he would give it to her.

“Podrick fucking Payne,” the uncouth sellsword said fondly at their approach. Podrick hugged the man and Brienne watched the exchange distastefully. She had never approved of the man and did not like him rubbing off on Podrick. “He’s waiting for you, my lady,” Bronn said, nodding at Brienne. “Who are these?”

“My brother and goodsister,” Brienne said, gesturing to Gal and then Maerye in turn.

“Well, he didn’t mention no brother or goodsister, so you go in alone.”

“I don’t bloody well think so,” Gal said, putting his hand out in front of Brienne. Brienne rolled her eyes, remembering a conversation with Maerye about chaperones years ago. She shoved past Gal’s hand and stormed into Jaime’s tent, hopign Podrick and Bronn would ensure Gal and Maerye stayed outside.

She found Jaime waiting for her and a smile rose unbidden to her face. “Ser Jaime,” she greeted formally. His lips twitched.

“Lady Brienne,” he replied, inclining his head. “You kept me waiting.”

Brienne blushed lightly. “My brother and goodsister believe I should not be around you without a chaperone. They think you will dishonour me.”

Jaime met her eyes. “Would you let me if I tried?” Heat rushed between Brienne’s legs but she shook her head and moved onto the subject at hand.

**XXX**

Maerye and Gal waited impatiently. This was not the first time that Brienne had been alone with that man but Maerye wanted it to be the last. There were no good rumours about Jaime Lannister, jumping into a bear pit to save Brienne’s life notwithstanding. Maerye did not trust him. She was fairly certain he had caused Brienne to fall in love with him and she certainly did not want Brienne to be hurt.

Men like Jaime Lannister always caused hurt.

When Brienne finally left the tent, her face was drawn. Maerye caught a glimpse of Jaime’s face and found that it was the same. She wondered what had happened. “Come on,” Brienne muttered. “He’s letting us go in.”

They headed towards the castle. When Maerye looked back, she found Jaime watching them sadly. Maerye’s stomach squirmed. Perhaps she had judged the man too harshly.

When, a few hours later, Jaime allowed them to leave Riverrun in failure and yet alive, Maerye knew she had. The look shared between Brienne and Jaime as they had a painful wave goodbye was almost too much for Maerye to bear.

As soon as Gal and Podrick had rowed them around a corner, Brienne began to sob. Maerye’s heart broke and she met Gal’s eyes, finding them shining with worry. This was not going to end well for anyone. 

**XXX**

Two months later, Galladon of Tarth left a meeting with Lady Sansa Stark and Lord Yohn Royce, representing the North, the Vale and the Stormlands in their plans to protect the realm. He met Maerye outside. She was heavily pregnant and hated the length of the meetings, though Sansa did invite her each time, pleasing Gal. Many in Westeros would have judged his wife by the inferiority of her birth, despite her status as one of the superior ladies of the land. 

Gal did not mind being at Winterfell, though he preferred the climate of the Stormlands. There was nothing like sleeping in a castle while a storm raged outside. It was very peaceful. The only true storms here were snow storms and they did not have the same effect. Even so, it made more sense to come together in the North, so that they could plan a true attack on the continent and get rid of Cersei.

Gal did not often discuss the plans with his sister. He knew well that she was in love with Jaime Lannister and the thought of going to war with him was abhorrent to her. He knew that she would do it, would take the risk of facing him across the battlefield, but she would hate herself forever if she did him any harm.

And it was unfortunately likely that that day was approaching. The Westerlands army was on the march, having left King’s Landing and Lannisport, heading North. Sansa had pulled them together to discuss the likelihood of a fight. Gal had not mentioned his sister’s fondness of Jaime Lannister. He was not sure how much Brienne had told her liege.

Maerye requested that they left the inside of Winterfell and watch the swordwork in the yard outside. His warrior wife always missed sparring when she became too pregnant to practise. Gal was only too happy to watch the swordwork with her. He always enjoyed listening to men complain as his wife, and indeed his sister, corrected their stances.

Gal offered his wife his arm and he escorted her out onto the ramparts and then down the slippery steps to the yard, where they found a sheltered seat to watch the squires fight. Maerye had just jumped up to offer some advice to one of them when there was a great uproar. Gal stood, hand on his sword and approached the gate, where a young boy was shouting, “Army! It’s the Lannister army!”

Fear grasped Gal’s heart. He found Maerye looking stricken. “Find Brienne,” Gal ordered her and she nodded, leaving immediately. Gal looked out and, sure enough, there was a large army approaching, flying red and gold flags. Gal wondered how he was going to be able to tell his sister. She would be heartbroken. Gal’s heart had broken when he had heard her sobbing when she said goodbye to him.

Gal would slay him himself for this.

Gal was soon joined by Lady Sansa at the gate as the army drew even closer. Jaime Lannister was leading the army. There was no doubt. Gal could see his lack of a hand, though he could not see his face, hidden under a helmet. He was very close, could likely see them, when Brienne arrived, panting. Maerye was a few seconds behind her. She drew into Gal’s arm.

“Why are they approaching?” Sansa muttered. “They cannot mean to ride in and attack.” Gal narrowed his eyes. He had no idea what they were doing. He glanced at Brienne. Jaime Lannister held up his hand to his army and they stopped. Lannister swung down from his horse. Brienne took a step forward.

“Brienne,” Gal hissed. Brienne ignored him. Lannister took his helmet off and shook his golden locks, looking about himself. Brienne took another step forward, her hand shaking. She was not even in full armour, Gal thought in a panic. 

Lannister locked his eyes on her. Gal could have shouted when he saw the man’s smile grow. He approached slowly and Brienne kept taking steps forward. She was outside of Winterfell’s gates now, outside of Winterfell’s safety. “What is she doing?” Sansa said, her eyes wide. “What if he kills her?”

Gal watched Lannister carefully. Maerye was clinging to his side. Her hand was on Gal’s sword, likely ready to charge and chop the arrogant son of a bitch’s head off. “Lady Brienne,” Lannister said. Gal could hear him. He wasn’t sure he wanted to hear any of this. Lannister drew his sword and Gal’s heart stopped.

And, then, in front of his sister, Jaime Lannister fell to his knees, bowed his head and offered her his sword. “My army is yours, my lady.”

Gal wished he could see Brienne’s face. He looked at Maerye’s and found her with her eyes closed. She opened them and looked up at Gal. “She’s going to marry the bastard,” Maerye grumbled. Gal grimaced.

“I did not think your brother would let me have you if I came without an army, Lady Brienne,” Lannister continued. Gal narrowed his eyes at the bastard on his knees. Brienne had yet to say anything.

“My brother doesn’t decide who can have me,” she said and Gal rolled his eyes. “Only I decide that.”

“Well then,” Lannister said, looking up at her with a cocky smirk on his face, “can I have you?” The undertones made Gal want to go and smash his stupid face in. Brienne did not reply. “Marry me,” Lannister added, his smile dropping and his face becoming more earnest. Oh, well, Gal really wanted to punch his lights out now. Surely, his sister would not marry him. Surely he would not have to put up with this prick for the rest of his life.

“Yes,” Brienne said and she giggled - his sister giggled for this utter prick. Gal growled. Jaime dropped his sword and stood up, using his one hand to cup the back of Brienne’s neck and bring her in for a kiss.

“For fuck’s sake,” Gal groaned. Maerye laughed and Gal looked down at her. “You realise he’s going to be part of our family now?”

“Oh, I’m sure we’ll cope, love,” Maerye said, reaching up and cupping his cheek. They looked over together to where Jaime and Brienne were still kissing.

“Okay, that’s enough!” Gal shouted, making Brienne pull apart from her new betrothed. She looked happy, her cheeks flushed. Jaime looked up at her like she had hung the moon in the sky. Gal sighed. He supposed he could be happy if she was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tomorrow: Taking a Queen


	7. Back in Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime Lannister wakes up alone, in King's Landing, before the War of the Five Kings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was not supposed to be today's but my prompt for today just didn't work like I wanted it to so I've scrapped it! Hope you like this :)

Jaime woke languorously, his shoulders rolling backwards as he splayed himself across the bed as far as possible. The beds at Winterfell were huge and Jaime often woke far on the other side of the bed from Brienne, so he would stretch until he found her and then snuggle across to her and take as many liberties with her body as she would let him, until she realised that she should probably begin to get ready and serve Sansa. Unfortunately, quite often this cut off their lovemaking quite early on. Sometimes Jaime made her forget about it long enough to properly have her. Most of the time, she was just too Brienne.

That morning, Jaime’s eyes opened when he found no Brienne in his bed. The light burst through the window, making Jaime flinch back as his eyes adjusted. He shuffled himself up into a seated position and finally took note of where he was: the White Sword Tower.

Too much happened too quickly in Jaime’s mind. He thought of King’s Landing and Cersei and the war and Daenerys’ plan to attack and dragons and - shit.

Jaime remembered the news that Brienne had relayed to him the day before: that Daenerys’ fleet had been attacked, one of her dragons taken out and her little translator aid girl murdered by Cersei. That had been the day before. Jaime had gone to bed that night and made love to Brienne and then kissed her neck as she fell asleep softly and then felt tears come to his eyes as he realised what he had to do. He’d tried to convince himself not to. The last thing Jaime remembered was sitting up in bed and watching Brienne, his heart breaking.

Maybe his heart had actually broken and he was dead and this was the afterlife. It was a very nice suite of chambers. Perhaps Brienne could join him here in many, many years when she died. They could snuggle up together every night. Jaime could coax laughter and orgasms out of her for eternity. It was a pleasant thought.

Jaime’s evaluation that this was the afterlife was confirmed when he found that he had two hands. This was always the part he was most excited about when it came to death: the return of his reliable right hand. Grinning in excitement, Jaime stood from his bed and flung open his wardrobe, dressing quickly in breeches and a shirt. The weather was warm - so beautifully warm. He hated the fucking North.

It was so much easier and quicker to dress with two hands. Jaime flexed his right hand back and forth a few times, a massive grin on his face. He stepped out onto his balcony and leaned against the barrier, closing his eyes and enjoying the way the sun felt on his face. He didn’t care how he had died, be it from a broken heart, or Brienne stabbing him after he left her, or maybe Daenerys had burned him alive and he just couldn’t remember the events that led up to it. Maybe that was what happened in death. Jaime just did not care. This was wonderful.

And he was sure that Brienne would come and join him soon. This was eternity so even fifty years would pass in a few days. Jaime could endure a few days without her. He couldn’t wait to go to sleep beside her and press a kiss behind her ear and make her make that awful beautiful giggle. Jaime grinned, staring out at what he could see of King’s Landing. Soldiers in the training yard. He could go and train with them. Could duel with his RIGHT HAND.  _ Oh _ , it was incredible.

As Jaime headed back into the room proper to put his shoes on so that he could go and spar, he had a sudden lurch of excitement. In a few days or fifty years, Jaime could duel with Brienne with both hands. The thought was arousing in the extreme. Oh, oh,  _ oh _ , he could finger her with both hands. He could do  _ everything _ with both hands. Fucking and fighting with Brienne with both hands. Why did people even stay alive if this was what the afterlife was like?

Jaime slipped out of his chambers, nodding at the Lannister guard who was posted there. “Good morning, Ser,” he said dutifully.

“Good morning,” Jaime replied jovially, ignoring the odd look the guard gave him. Jaime practically skipped down to the great hall. Lots of courtesans gave him funny, miserable looks. They clearly were not enjoying the afterlife as much as him. Perhaps they had two hands already when they died so there was nothing to be excited about. Or perhaps they didn’t have an eternity of fighting and fucking their partner ahead of them.

Jaime reached the great hall and shared a nod with the guards at the door. He swept in and his face fell immediately. At the head of the top table sat Robert Baratheon. Jaime’s lip curled. He was laughing raucously. Why -  _ why _ \- was Jaime’s wonderful afterlife being ruined by this prick? And next to him - Jaime’s heart stopped - Cersei. Was Cersei already dead? What had Daenerys done? Jaime felt a stabbing in his heart unlike anything he had experienced before. The only thing that could compare was the way he felt when Myrcella died in his arms. And yet this was so much more. His sweet sister. An undeniable bitch who had betrayed him as a lover, as a brother and as a human, but who he had loved for so long. So many emotions conflicted. He stood there, gaping at her, until he felt a hand on his arm.

Jaime looked right and found Ser Barristan Selmy. Jaime managed a small smile and received a dirty look for his efforts. “What are you doing, Lannister?” the man growled. Clearly Ser Barristan still wanted to be the Lord Commander in his afterlife. That was fine with Jaime. He’d never wanted the stupid position anyway, had always thought it was inexplicably stupid of Joffrey to dismiss the man and replace him with Jaime. Jaime had loved his life of guarding and fucking Cersei before that. And then suddenly he had to do paperwork, the bane of his very existence for a while there.

Jaime shook Ser Barristan’s hand off him. He may have been his lord commander once but he wasn’t anymore and Jaime could do whatever the hell he wanted in his afterlife. He stormed off from Ser Barristan and up to the top table. He could do whatever he wanted, could tell Robert to fuck off. Nothing mattered. He was already dead.

Finishing up his ideas of exactly what he would say to the man who abused his sister for years, Jaime was suddenly struck, again. He felt as though his heart would break in two and fall out of his body. He wanted to fall to the floor in pain. Because his brother sat at the table. He’d been hidden by the crowds but now Jaime saw him. And he was dead. Jaime felt tears prick the back of his eyes. His brother, the best of them.

“Jaime,” Cersei called. Jaime tore his eyes from Tyrion and laid eyes on his sister. He smiled at her, realising that she had her beautiful long hair back. He’d hated the short hair, or perhaps just the Cersei that she was with short hair. “Come sit with us, brother.” Jaime did as he was bid, as he always did with Cersei. She placed him to her left.

And then the final blow was struck. The three children came in, Joffrey swaggering at the front, Myrcella and Tommen giggling behind. Jaime’s smile grew and Cersei hit him painfully on his arm. Jaime flinched away from her, scowling. Joffrey sat down to the side of his father but Myrcella and Tommen came to sit by Jaime. “Uncle Jaime, good morning,” Myrcella said, her smile like a sunset over the Red Keep.

“Good morning, Myrcella,” Jaime said with a smile. What did it matter if he spoke to his children as though they were his children if they were all dead anyway? Who cared if Myrcella, Tommen and Joffrey were truly Jaime’s children? Surely nobody. He wanted to scream it from the-

Myrcella knew. Jaime blinked. He remembered talking to her and then he remembered her dying. She was older. And she knew. She knew he was her father and she was older - she was -

Jaime whirled his head round to look at Tommen. Tommen had been older too, when he’d committed suicide. And, shit, Tyrion looked older too, more wrinkled, less carefree. Jaime dropped his fork with a clatter, drawing the attention of others along the top table.

“Are you quite alright, Ser Jaime?” Renly fucking Baratheon said, a sly little smile on his face. Jaime forgot how much he hated that smug bastard. All the smug fucking Baratheons. He wanted to punch him in the face.

Instead, he controlled himself. “Quite alright, thank you, Renly,” he replied quietly.

But he was not. He was not alright. Was this a dream? No. Not a dream. He was sure it wasn’t a dream. It was all too real. But if it wasn’t a dream then-

He’d gone back in time. Jaime drank from his goblet, gulping down the water as he considered what the fuck was going on. He had gone back in time to a time when his sister was still a golden-haired queen, still married to Robert fucking Baratheon, to when his children were still alive.

To a time when he didn’t know Brienne. He wasn’t waiting a few days for her, for eternity to zoom past him and her to arrive. He would have to wait years, true years, while he fended off Cersei’s advances. Jaime felt bile rise in his throat. He could not sleep with Cersei. It would be a betrayal of Brienne. A complete and utter betrayal. But how was he supposed to say no for so many years? He had tried to say no before.

Jaime’s hands shook as he picked up his fork again. What was he doing? What had happened? Why was he in the past? Were the events of before just a dream? Was this real now-

More importantly, was Jon Arryn still alive?

If Jon Arryn was still alive, Jaime could stop it all. He could kill Petyr fucking Baelish and everything would be different. Stark would never come to King’s Landing. Joffrey would never cut his head off. Jaime squirmed. Cersei would likely still kill Robert, meaning Joffrey would be king. It wouldn’t be perfect. But it would be better.

Jaime exhaled slowly, trying to get a hold of his breathing. He noticed that Cersei was looking at him oddly. He truly was not the right person for this job, to change the future. He was the stupidest Lannister. How many times had Cersei said it?

No, he would need help. And there was only one person Jaime trusted in the world.

So, Jaime’s actions were settled: prevent the death of Jon Arryn and then go to Tarth, to make Brienne fall in love with him. Because, if he’d needed her before, it was nothing compared to the way he needed her now.

**XXX**

Jaime worked for the next week. He guarded Robert, ignoring the way that he whored and drank and feasted. He did everything Ser Barristan told him to do. He had dinner with Tyrion most nights and marvelled at the way his brother whored and drank and feasted, like a small version of Robert Baratheon. Jaime didn’t care. His brother back and not truly jaded the way he had been before. It was a relief. And in the time that Jaime was not being a good kingsguard or a good brother to Tyrion, Jaime watched Jon Arryn and Petyr Baelish. He got very little sleep but this was more important. He had no clue how he was going to save Jon Arryn but he would- he had to. If Jaime didn’t have the happiness of Brienne and the security of the Seven Kingdoms after saving Arryn on his to-do list, he would have become Arryn’s personal taster. But he did. And so he started looking for a reason to suggest that Arryn employ a taster, without raising suspicion. He didn’t need to be poisoned by Baelish himself.

It was after that first week that Jaime first had a proper conversation with Cersei. He had avoided her all week, taking meals either in his chambers or not at all. But she finally tracked him down when he stood guard outside a meeting of the small council. “Jaime,” she said as she approached. Jaime gave her as much of a smile as he could muster.

“Cersei,” he replied carefully.

She drew close to him and whispered in his ear, “I’m going to come to your chambers tonight. I need to talk to you.”

Of course she needed to talk to him. She didn’t just want to fuck him as lovers did. She needed something too. Jaime shook his head.

“I have guard duty for Robert this evening,” Jaime lied. Cersei furrowed her brow.

“No you don’t. I checked,” she said and Jaime schooled his face to not show his irritation.

“I swapped with Ser Balon,” Jaime said and Cersei arched an eyebrow. “His sister is arriving on a boat from the Stormlands this evening,” he lied. There was a fleet from the Stormlands coming in this evening, bringing a few notable Stormlanders to court, so the lie had basis in truth. And Cersei accepted it. She had no reason not to. The Jaime of this timeline would never lie to her. Certainly not about something that meant he wouldn’t have sex that night.

“Tomorrow then,” Cersei said, giving him a lusty look that had Jaime’s cock twitching despite himself. He swallowed and looked away from her. She gave him a confused look and then stalked away, clearly unhappy with Jaime’s response. Jaime closed his eyes. He would need to get better at dodging her. He had yet to figure out exactly when they were in the timeline and he could not remember precisely when Jon Arryn was killed, so he may have moons yet until he could save Arryn and run away to Tarth to find Brienne.

Jaime did not guard Robert that night, obviously, because Ser Barristan was on guard with Ser Balon and Jaime did not have the words to explain to them, particularly Ser Barristan, why he wanted to do their watch when it was quite well known how much he hated it. Instead, Jaime slipped out of the castle all together, undercover and disguised as a footman. He wandered through the streets of King’s Landing for hours. He didn’t have any duties in the morning so he could sleep in. Jaime walked out to where the sea met land and then back into the middle of the city and then to the sept that Cersei had destroyed with wildfire. It was only when Jaime reached the docks that he spoke to someone again.

The docks of King’s Landing were always busy and that night was no exception. In fact, Jaime thought it was busier than most nights. Four ships flying the Baratheon stag were docked and bustling. Jaime quickly surmised that this was the fleet that was bringing in some Stormlanders to court. Sure enough, Jaime recognised various vassals of Robert’s - a Selmy girl accompanied by a tall man wearing the three stalks of yellow wheat, two young men bearing the battling swans of house Swann and a husband and wife whose retainers claimed their Buckler descent. Jaime watched them, tired and weary from travel, climb onto horses and be led from the docks towards the Red Keep. At that point, Jaime was approached.

“Ser Jaime,” the captain of the fleet said, bobbing his head to him in respect. Jaime greeted him swiftly, aware that he needed to leave immediately. He did not need this man reporting this meeting to anyone that would tell Cersei. “Are you here to see the passengers safely to the Red Keep?”

Jaime found himself nodding. “Yes, on King Robert’s orders,” he lied. The captain was clearly shocked by the king’s thoughtfulness but did not say anything. “As soon as the last one is away, I’ll be off too,” Jaime said. The captain inclined his head.

“There’s just one more. Here she is. Well, I say she,” the man said, chuckling. Jaime gave him a funny look and glanced up to see who was coming off from the boat. What Jaime saw made him freeze.

“Brienne,” he breathed. She walked just like his Brienne, scowled just like his Brienne, even got on a horse like his Brienne. This Brienne had longer hair, though, and it made Jaime smile. 

The captain chuckled. “You know the  _ lady _ of Tarth, Ser Jaime?”

“Give her some respect,” Jaime spat at the stupid little man, noticing his flaws then. The captain’s eyes widened and he bobbed his head deferentially. Jaime almost wished he had his golden hand so that he could smack some respect into this stupid man. Jaime took a step forward just as Brienne began to ride away to the castle. He could have called out to her but word would only get back to Cersei.

Swallowing heavily, Jaime started to make his way back to the castle. Why was Brienne in King’s Landing? With a lurch of his heart, Jaime considered for the first time that it was not just he who had been sent back in time.

**XXX**

Jaime woke up the next morning with his cock hard and insistent between his legs and Brienne’s name on the tip of his tongue. Last night seemed half a dream and yet it wasn’t. Brienne was in King’s Landing. The fact of it had Jaime jumping from his bed, his brain quickly formulating a thousand scenarios between them. Would she run into his arms? Would she notice him at all? Did she remember him? Would he have to make her fall in love with him again?

The thought wasn’t entirely hateful to Jaime. He had made so many mistakes with Brienne. If she didn’t know him and got to fall in love with him all over again, he could do everything right, be the man she deserved. Jaime did his shirt up quickly, a little shocked that he still knew how to do everything with his right hand. He was flexing that hand when a voice chilled his blood.

“Jaime,” she purred. Jaime swallowed heavily and turned to find Cersei already unlacing her own corset.  _ Fuck _ . He was shaking her head before she even reached him.

“No,” he muttered. Cersei looked at him with a smirk. She flung her corset onto the bed. Jaime didn’t even look at her breasts. She was beautiful, there was no denying it. But she wasn’t what Jaime wanted. He did not want to be browbeaten again, led around by the cock, by the reward of having sex once every three months when and how Cersei determined it should be. Jaime pushed her away lightly but she just hissed at the feel of his hands on her shoulders.

“Come on, brother,” she said, putting her hand between his legs. Jaime hardened involuntarily and pushed her away again. “It’s been so long, Jaime. I’m  _ aching _ for you.”

“No,” Jaime said more forcefully. He grasped her shoulders and shoved her away. She narrowed her eyes at him and approached again, reaching for her skirts this time. She went to take them off too but Jaime grabbed her hands before she could. “I said no, Cersei,” he growled. Her lip curled.

“No?” she hissed. “You think to refuse me?”

“Stay away from me,” Jaime said, wanting to close his eyes against the anger in her eyes. He almost wanted to plead her to be sad, be forlorn and confused and heartbroken. Feel.

“No,” she said, approaching him again and pushing her lips against his. Jaime was so tempted. This was the Cersei he had loved, kissing him, not the Cersei who had killed and ruined their lives. Even so, Jaime placed his hands on her stomach and pushed her away.

“I said, stay away from me,” Jaime said in as low tones as he could muster.

Cersei’s nostrils flared. “I can feel you hard for me, Jaime, just as you have been all our lives,” she said, pushing her finger into his chest. Jaime met her eyes and did not falter.

“I don’t love you,” he lied. “I don’t want you,” he said truthfully. He saw the slap coming but did not move quick enough, feeling the sting against his cheek. He caught her wrist as it left his face and squeezed it. “Get out,” he ground out.

“With pleasure,” she spat, wrenching her hand from his. She picked up her corset and fastened it around herself again. “Don’t come crying to me when you change your mind and no one else wants you, brother. I  _ own _ you. You are  _ mine _ .”

And, with that, Jaime’s heart broke. She stormed out, her skirts flowing behind her. Jaime watched her leave, his brow furrowed and his lips slightly parted. Had he just made a huge mistake? There was no telling what would happen now. Head bowed, Jaime turned to reenter his bedroom when he saw her, watching Cersei leave his chambers with the grace of a queen who had visited her brother, not with the anger that was burning inside her at being rejected. She watched, her lips parted, her eyes shining, her brow fallen.

_ Brienne _ .

  
  



	8. Glitter in the Carpet: Teachers AU Part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The cleaner is not too happy with Jaime and Brienne's afternoon activity

“Shush, shush,” Jaime said, waving his hand desperately to hush the excited whisper of his children, clamouring around him to hear what was being said on the phone. From across the room, Pia looked at him, her arms crossed over her stomach, a look on her face that told him that she was completely used to his shit. Jaime pressed his fingers to the receiver. “It’s ringing!” he whispered dramatically. His nine- and ten-year-olds hissed their excitement at each other.

Jaime wiggled his finger over his lips when he heard the phone pick up. The clamour of giggles and whispers died down quickly. “Miss Tarth,” Jaime said, a smile growing on his face. He could hear his own tone grow sweet. He cleared his throat.

“Mister Lannister,” she said and her voice was calm yet surprised. Jaime was pleased. If she had sounded stressy, he would not have called.

“Year five were just wondering what year one was doing this afternoon.”

Translate: Mister Lannister was wondering what Miss Tarth was doing this afternoon.

Jaime heard Brienne shift the phone on her face. “Year one,” she called, “do we want to ask year five to join our angel-making?”

Jaime grinned at the sound of children cheering. He nodded enthusiastically at his class who were waiting on tenterhooks. They cheered too. “We’re making glitter angels.”

“Very curriculum-focussed,” Jaime teased, turning away from his class. He could practically hear her rolling her eyes.

“We’ve just been discussing the nativity and angel Gabriel.” 

“Oh, I am sorry, how could I have missed that?” She tutted at him and Pia cleared her throat behind them. “Right, well, thank you, Miss Tarth. We will be with you presently.”

“Yes, see you soon, Mister Lannister.”

Jaime hung the phone up and grinned at the shouting children. “Alright, year five, in a line, in a line! Let’s go make glittery angels with the babies!” They literally screamed as Jaime opened the door and stood, waving his arms up and down to try and make them stand in a straight line. He wasn’t sure if Catelyn would approve of this, but having the year fives help the year ones could only be a good thing, surely.

Jaime made them tiptoe when they passed the year six classroom and then Catelyn’s office and then Sansa’s classroom. Then, Jaime did a funny knock on Brienne’s door and opened it before she answered. He practically skipped into the room, leading his children like the pied piper. When he reached the end of the little corridor and peeked around the corner, he found Brienne looking at him with eyebrows raised, a fonder version of the no-shit look that Pia gave him earlier. Jaime gave her a cheeky grin and then waved the children into the classroom.

Most of his year fives kneeled beside the year ones, though some found spare chairs and Brienne sent Pia and Podrick out to find more chairs. Jaime leaned on Brienne’s desk, hands in pockets, while she took her own swivel chair. Her laptop was closed. “What prompted this then, Mister Lannister?” Brienne asked, leaning her head on her hands.

Jaime grinned, watching her. “I wanted a change of scenery.” Brienne gave him a smile that Jaime took to his heart. “And to get covered with glitter. The opportunities are lesser when you teach year five.”

Brienne laughed, looking out at the children. The year fives were cutting out their own angels while the year ones had precut ones, which they were dowsing with various coloured glitters and then colouring with pens. “Yes, I’m sure my shower drain will not thank me for this,” she said with a grimace. Jaime blinked and stood up, giving her what he hoped was a winning smile before approaching some of his more boisterous boys.

He did not need to be thinking about Brienne in the shower.

**XXX**

Brienne pushed up the screen of her laptop, thinking to look over the next day’s maths lesson. She found herself thoroughly distracted by the scene before her. Jaime had left her desk to go and check on some of the notorious boys in his class, those who generally refused to behave. He had found himself surrounded by the girls from Brienne’s class, who practically foisted an angel upon him and told him to choose a glitter, while Jaime’s boys only laughed at him.

“My mummy says you’re the prettiest man on the planet,” Gracie Mitchell told Jaime, her eyebrows raised as she glued googly eyes to her angel. Brienne had to cover her mouth to hide her laughter when she saw Jaime’s face at that statement. Gracie was one of Brienne’s more outspoken little girls, who had absolutely no qualms about saying what she thought or sharing what she had heard. And, unfortunately, the apple did not fall far from the tree.

Jaime turned to Brienne, his lips parted in shock. He was kneeling at the table, his angel in one hand, dangling. Brienne raised her eyebrows at him, biting her lip to keep from laughing to obviously. Jaime waggled his eyebrows and gestured a circle around his face. Brienne nodded, scrunching her face in a way to suggest him she teasingly agreed with the statement. Unfortunately, they were not alone.

“Miss Tarth,” Gracie’s sidekick Aliyah cried, twirling her braid with her finger. “Do you think Mister Lannister is pretty?” Brienne’s mouth fell apart.

The boys at Jaime’s table laughed uproariously. “Mister Lannister is  _ pretty _ ,” they teased. Jaime guffawed.

“Boys can be pretty too, Derrick,” he said, waggling his angel at him.

“But do you think so, Miss Tarth?” Gracie pressed. Brienne laughed slightly. Jaime winked at her.

Pursing her lips, she said, “Mister Lannister is very  _ pretty _ .” Jaime licked his lips, meeting her eye as he did so, before reconcentrating on the angel.

“Mister Lannister,” one of the boys, Nate Fredrickson, said, calling Jaime’s attention yet again. Brienne noticed Jaime was gluing blue glitter to the angel’s skirt in stripes.

“Yes, Nate?” Jaime said, setting the pot of blue glitter down and shaking his angel off onto the spare piece of paper beneath.

“Do you think Miss Tarth is pretty?”

Brienne choked. Jaime smirked, turning to glance at her. Brienne imagined her face was splotchy with red flush and she knew that her hair was a mess because she’d woken up late this morning and hadn’t had time to wash it. And she hadn’t washed her face before she’d gone to sleep the night before so she’d woken up with rough skin that must have looked disgusting. She wasn’t wearing a particularly flattering top either-

“Very pretty.”

Brienne inhaled a bit shakily at that. She didn’t know what she had been expecting him to say. She had been preparing for the worst but he was hardly going to say no in front of all the children. That would set rather a bad example. She knew it was just a front for the children.

But the sparkling smile he sent her way set her heart afire. Something inside her thought - or perhaps just hoped - that he spoke truly. That, in his eyes, if not the world’s, she was pretty. Brienne tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

Sending an uneasy smile Jaime’s way, Brienne stood and wandered over to one of the other tables, where one of her boys was struggling.

**XXX**

“Your angel is pretty, Mister Lannister,” Gracie said, fluttering her long eyelashes up at him. Jaime smiled and looked down at his beautiful angel. She was wearing a very a la mode dress, strapless with blue stripes and a silver bow at the waist. It had been painstakingly done. Glitter was something that Jaime Lannister prided himself in.

“Why thank you, Gracie,” Jaime said, “so is yours.” It was okay. It was very silver and had long curly blonde hair and brown eyes. Jaime glanced at Brienne, watching her smile at the boy she was helping. He was more of a short-haired, blue-eyed man himself.

“You should give it to your girlfriend,” Aliyah said and Gracie nodded, her little ponytail bobbing up and down with the effort. Jaime glanced at Brienne. She was only a table away. He wondered if she could hear. He hoped so.

“I don’t have a girlfriend,” he informed them with a smile. If he raised his volume whatsoever, it was entirely incidental. Nothing at all to do with making his availability known to the wonderful year one teacher whom he had been trying to ask out for two weeks.

“You should give the angel to Miss Tarth,” Derrick told Jaime. Jaime raised his eyebrows at the boy who shrugged, looking back at his angel. Or, rather, the angel-shaped stormtrooper Derrick had fashioned. “She could be your girlfriend.”

“It is a bit sad that you don’t have a girlfriend, sir,” Nate added. Jaime narrowed his eyes at the cheeky boy, who was chuckling with Derrick.

“Very sad,” Gracie added, misunderstanding that Nate had intended the ‘pathetic’ definition of the word rather than the literal sense. “Miss Tarth doesn’t have a boyfriend.” Jaime did not need to ask how she knew. After her second day, Jaime had bumped into Brienne in the staffroom and she had told him, amused, about how all the girls in her class wanted to know if she had a boyfriend.

“I know,” Jaime said, focussing on choosing the best yellow felt-tip for his angel’s hair.

“Well, you don’t want the angel yourself, do you, sir?” Nate asked. Jaime glanced at his angel and then back up at Nate. There was no reason Jaime wouldn’t want the angel he had worked so hard on. It could go on the empty Christmas tree Sansa and Tyrion had foisted upon him.

Jaime glanced around the room. He preferred the idea of it on Brienne’s desk.

When Brienne moved over to their table a few moments later, Jaime was finished with his angel, complète with short blonde hair and googly eyes that Jaime had tried and tried to colour blue but eventually gave up on. He had given it full lips though, just like Brienne. “Miss Tarth,” he said and she narrowed his eyes at him. “I made you an angel.”

He extended his pride and joy out to her and she looked at it, her lips slightly agape. Jaime raised his eyebrows at her, cocking his head. “Come on, miss,” Derrick encouraged. Brienne closed her mouth, looking down at her feet and then back up, to take the angel. Jaime grinned triumphantly.

“Thank you, Mister Lannister.”

Jaime stood and followed her over to her desk, where she placed it next to her laptop. “Do you like it?” he asked, rocking back and forth on his feet. Brienne laughed.

“It’s very well done, Mister Lannister,” she said, a twinkle in those blue eyes. “Very diligent.”

Jaime chuckled and she grinned at him until her nose crinkled. “You realise you have to make me one now,” he said faux-seriously. Brienne’s lips twitched.

“We’ll see.”

**XXX**

“I have something for you,” Brienne said, about half an hour later when Jaime had retreated to her desk. Pia and Podrick had returned with some more chairs and they were handling behaviour fairly well, leaving Jaime free to drink a cup of tea in peace. Her feet were bouncing as she handed Jaime the gingerbread man she had made him, gingerbread people being their next activity after the angels.

The gingerbread man had been drawn by Brienne herself and it had been given a very large head and a small body. She had made it very pretty and dressed it in a shirt and tie, with green eyes and golden locks like Jaime’s. She was quite skilled at drawing. When Jaime placed it beside the angel he had made Brienne, it was about a centimetre shorter, which Jaime supposed represented the inch height différence between them.

“Thank you,” Jaime said earnestly. Screw the angel, he was going to put the gingerbread man on his tree. She smiled at him and then reached for his cup of tea, taking a sip and then wrinkling her nose.

“Too much sugar in there,” she said, handing it back to him.

“That’s why it’s not yours, you tea thief.” Brienne chuckled. Jaime glanced out at the year ones and year fives. Christmas music was playing in the background and the only other noise was the occasional whisper of a child asking to pass a pen. “We should do this more often,” Jaime commented, rolling his shoulders in a way that he hoped showed off his back muscles.

Brienne snorted derisively. “We’d never get anything done.”

A smirk rose on Jaime’s face and he gave her a side-eyed glance. “Why would that be?” he asked, enjoying the sight of her cheeks pinking. She stood up from her leaning position against her desk.

“I should go and-”

She didn’t even finish what she should go and do before she strode off to kneel at the far table. Jaime smiled, hidden inside his spotty tea mug. Never get anything done indeed.

**XXX**

Brienne returned to her classroom, one custard cream in her mouth, one in her hand and an overly milky cup of tea in the other, to find Jaime Lannister sat at her desk. He looked up and grinned. Brienne realised she must look a twat, with a biscuit in her mouth. She placed the cup of tea and one biscuit upon the table and bit into the other, grimacing as she realised the biscuit on the table would soon be as glittery as the angels which she had hung around the room.

“Can I help you?” she asked after swallowing the first biscuit nearly whole. There was such a long time between lunchtime and the end of the day. Brienne was always ravenous by the time she had shipped the last child off.

Jaime shrugged. “Didn’t want to look at my own classroom. Thought I’d come and work here.” Brienne quelled the smile that threatened to rise and picked up the other biscuit, blowing on it to remove any glitter. “What do you need to do this evening?”

Brienne sighed and picked up her tea, heading over to her desk which he had taken over. She placed the turquoise mug on a coaster and picked up her notepad, full of to-do lists. Jaime grimaced as she listed off what she needed to do. “I was just going to put some music on and crack on.”

Jaime grinned. “Sounds good. Do you need this chair?” he offered. Brienne smiled but shook her head. Her desk was big enough for both of them, she considered as she pulled the chair Podrick used during carpet time over and set her laptop on the table, so that the cover of hers was just touching the cover of Jaime’s. He pushed his laptop screen which moved Brienne’s.

“I  _ will _ kick you out,” she threatened. He grinned sheepishly and reorganised their screens. Brienne forced her smile down and crossed her legs on the chair, grateful that she was wearing trousers with some give. She reached for her phone and scrolled through Spotify, before finding a Christmas playlist.

“Can I kick you out for your shit taste in music?” Jaime grumbled. Brienne rolled her eyes.

“It’s December. I can listen to as much Christmas music as I like, you bloody grinch.” Jaime’s lips twitched but he stayed silent, his eyes fixed on his laptop screen. Inhaling, Brienne reached up to mess with the ends of her hair before she did the same.

**XXX**

Brienne messed with her hair when she was bored.

Jaime had first noticed it during staff meeting last week. Her hair was short, admittedly, but there were little curls against the back of her neck that she would curl around the tip of her finger. Jaime wasn’t entirely sure that she was conscious of doing it. Her eyes sort of glazed over and her fingers went to her hair.

Jaime found her doing it then, sat on the wrong side of her desk, staring at her laptop screen. They’d been sat for over an hour and Jaime had actually been relatively productive, tamping down his desire to speak to her every time he thought of something he wanted to say. The more work they got done, the less they would have to do this evening. And Jaime had Brienne’s number. He could text her funny things while he watched television that night.

She’d marked first, big books that Jaime identified as maths books. She was like lightning, with a green pen and a smiley face stamp. She put comments on work, asked probing questions and put a stamp on every child’s work, no matter how many ticks or dots she wrote. She was a wonderful teacher. Jaime wondered if he could organise to watch a maths lesson that she taught. He was sure it would be a lesson for him too.

Jaime was still watching Brienne’s hands play with her hair, dreaming of doing it himself and considering how best to ask her out appropriately, when there was a knock at the door and then a kerfuffle as the door was pushed open with a trolley. The cleaner, Jeyne, waddled in with her cleaners trolley, the long tube attached to the hoover knocking a book off a sideboard. She grumbled as she picked it up and then turned to them.

“Sorry, Brienne,” she said with a shrug, putting the book back onto its display. Brienne smiled and then turned back to her laptop. Jaime leaned over their screens, taking advantage of the distraction, to check out what Brienne was doing. Topic planning, on Advent. Brienne scowled up at him. Jaime smiled and settled back onto his seat.

Jeyne pulled her hoover off the trolley, seeming to struggle with the effort. Jaime jittered, watching her and wondering whether he should go and help. Eventually, she managed it and plugged it in.

Jaime had learned over the years that he could get nothing done while his classroom was hoovered, so he pulled out his phone. Two texts from Tyrion, one of which was just a picture of their daughter, Caitriona, with a big toothless smile and her pudgy little hand reaching for the screen. Jaime smiled and pushed his laptop screen back, hitting Brienne’s and drawing her attention. She looked up, scowling.

“Do you wanna see Sansa’s daughter?” Her scowl alleviated and she nodded. Jaime turned his phone around to show her Cait. Brienne smiled.

“She’s beautiful. Isn’t she named for Catelyn?”

Jaime nodded. “They called her Caitriona, so it’s a bit similar but also different.”

“Is she your only niece?” Brienne asked over the noise of the hoover. Jaime shook his head and flipped through his photos to find a picture of his sister’s children.

“These are my sister’s children - Joffrey, Myrcella and Tommen.”

“Wow, how old are you? How old is your sister?” she asked incredulously, holding the phone. Jaime snatched the phone back and narrowed his eyes at her.

“It’s very rude to ask a man his age,” he said, putting his nose in the air to make her laugh. It worked and Jaime met her beautiful, sparkling eyes. He chuckled. “My sister and I are twins. We are thirty-six. Cersei was just eighteen when she married Robert and it wasn’t even nine months later that she had Joff. Myrcella came five years later and Tommen three years after that.”

Brienne opened her mouth to speak again but at that moment, the cleaner turned off her hoover, the sound like a breeze, trapped in a tupe and dying as it faded away. “There is an inordinate amount of glitter on this floor,” Jeyne said, glaring at them. Brienne arched her head around her shoulder, likely looking at the carpet. It truly did sparkle. Jaime failed to diminish his smile.

“It’s Jaime’s fault,” Brienne said, pointing at Jaime. Jaime was taken aback, his mouth falling open and shaking his head slightly.

“Erm,  _ Brienne _ , you will find that it was your little monster children that created this mess,” he said, gesturing in a circle to the floor. Brienne’s mouth twitched. Their eyes met and Jaime laughed through his nose. 

“Perhaps,” Jeyne started, pointing the hoover nozzle at them, “if you spent more time with the children and less time flirting, there would be less work for me to do!”

And, with that, Brienne and Jaime watched, eyes wide, as Jeyne put her hoover back onto her trolley and stormed out of the classroom. Their eyes did not leave the spot where she had disappeared for a few instants, before Brienne turned back to Jaime and met his eyes, covering her mouth with her hand to try and mask her sudden burst of laughter. There was nothing for it; his eyes on her wonderful sparkling ones, Jaime fell into the happy pit of laughter too. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tomorrow: a Starbucks AU, coz you should write what you know and I know Starbucks


	9. Starbucks AU

“Hey, hey,” Jaime said, practically crashing through the door into the bar. He threw his red apron down onto the surface in front of the coffee machine. Brienne rolled her eyes at Margaery, whose face lit up. Jaime’s late arrival meant that she could finally leave. “I’m just gonna get a till.” Brienne nodded, pulling out her till card from the pocket of her apron.

“I’ll take your till off, Marge,” Brienne said and Margaery slid out of the way of the till with haste. Brienne slid the till card down the slit in the side of the till and messed around with the buttons until the till sprang open. Margaery took the till and the few receipts that were hiding underneath. “You can clock out. Jaime will be here in a second.”

Margaery gave Brienne a smacking kiss on the cheek and skipped off through the door to the back. A few minutes later, Brienne was serving a customer when Jaime came in with a fresh till. He reached into Brienne’s pocket for her till card and winked at her as he sauntered off to the tills.  _ Prick _ .

“What’s this Catelyn says about someone else on the close?” Jaime asked as he focussed on the till screen, tapping buttons with his card rather than his fingers. He had previously disclosed on a work night out that he thought this made him look cooler. Brienne pulled the steam wand out, placing the jug of soya milk underneath it.

“New guy. His name is Podrick.”

“Does this mean I don’t have to mop?” Jaime asked hopefully. Brienne grinned and nodded. Jaime bunched his hand into a fist and shook it. As a customer approached, he pushed his till in, grabbed his own till card, swiped it and said, “Hi, what can I get for you?”

Brienne finished the soy gingerbread latte and handed it off, earning herself a smile. Then, while Jaime’s customer dithered about his drink order, she wiped down the surface and rinsed out the soya jug. Jaime passed her the cup, adorned with his ridiculously beautiful handwriting. Their fingers brushed as Brienne took it. She glanced at it quickly and grabbed a milk jug without properly looking. The action was as natural as breathing. Making drinks was her full time job.

“What time does this Podrick arrive?” Jaime said distastefully. Brienne gave him a side-eyed glance and he rolled his eyes. “I can’t be bothered teaching him to do things, even if it does mean I don’t have to mop.”

“Well, that’s your job, so you don’t have a choice.” Brienne hadn’t been pleased either, to discover that she had a new starter on her shift this evening. She wanted things to be easy and chill with Jaime. How often were they on shifts, just the two of them? Very rarely and she was so looking forward to it. One til cloes. Eight hours, just them, laughing and talking and not having to bother with anybody else. Of course, it had been too good to be true. “And he arrives at four.”

Jaime bent his neck to either side, likely hoping to crack it in a way that sent shivers through Brienne and made her cry out for him to stop, which, of course, only encouraged the bastard more. “I guess I’ll just have to enjoy the next three free hours.”

**XXX**

Alas, that had been too much to hope for. Almost as Jaime had suggested enjoying the three hours that he had with Brienne before this little prick Podrick arrived to disturb their peace, a customer arrived. And then another, and then another. By the time Jaime next looked at the clock, it was half-past three and there was still a queue snaking its way around the store.

Brienne had kept her cool despite the massive influx of orders. The problem was, with the Christmas markets being so popular, there were loads of tourists, even midweek, and their Starbucks was in the train station. And, when you arrive, after a long train journey, or when you’re finished after a long day looking around markets in the cold, there is nothing you want more than a coffee or a hot chocolate.

When the new guy walked onto shift at four o'clock, Jaime could barely contain his groan. He had hardly had an opportunity to speak with Brienne about anything other than orders and washing jugs and till problems. And it had been so long since he had closed with Brienne. He’d been stuck on shifts with Catelyn or Dany for weeks. Every so often he had a shift with Addam, but even that wasn’t as enjoyable as a shift with Brienne.

Jaime was polite to Podrick, introducing himself and Brienne and suggesting he just watch Brienne for awhile, asking if he remembered any of the drinks he’d had to make when he’d had his trial shift. Soon, Brienne had Podrick steaming all of her milk and they had a pretty good thing going. Jaime scowled. If only Podrick could work the till and he could be Brienne’s bar support. They were the best at supporting each other on bar, speedy and tidy, the picture of efficiency.

Finally, at about half-past six, the queues died down to the point that Jaime could grab a tray and go and collect the dirty mugs and plates around the café. He saw Brienne glancing at him from over the coffee machines as Podrick asked her a question. Smiling at her, he looked away. Stupid Podrick.

“Rough introduction,” Jaime said to Podrick as he came back around the other side of the bar. Podrick shrugged with a smile and Jaime gave him as much of a smile as he could, before asking if he remembered how to use the dishwasher. At Podrick’s tremulous nod, Jaime smirked and handing him the overflowing bussing tray. Brienne opened the door and smiled as Podrick headed into the back.

When he was gone, Jaime groaned aloud and lay his head on Brienne’s shoulder. “That was ridiculous,” he said into her black work shirt. She patted his head and Jaime scowled, glancing up at her but leaving his chin on her shoulder. “How was Podrick?”

Brienne shrugged, jolting Jaime’s head. “Okay. He’ll learn.”

“I’m sure you’ll teach him well,” Jaime said and she shoved him off her. “Do you want me to bring the outside furniture in?” he asked hopefully. She glowered at him. “Come on, ignore Catelyn. No one is going to arrive and inspect us tonight. We can just bring the furniture in and then we can close easier at 8 and then we can go for a drink.”

“A drink?” Brienne repeated and she sounded genuinely surprised. Jaime nodded forcefully.

“I’ve not seen you in a million years and the general public fucked up all my conversation plans for today, so we’re going to go next door and have a drink and chat.”

Brienne grinned. “Sounds good.”

It did sound good. Jaime nodded once. “Can I go and stack the furniture then?” Brienne shook her head and Jaime groaned. “ _ Why _ ?” 

“You can at half seven.” Jaime rolled his eyes. “You can start giving Podrick some of the jugs to wash though.” Jaime gave her two thumbs and planted a kiss on her scarred cheek. She blushed and Jaime grinned. He picked up as many of the jugs as he could, slipping each handle onto a different finger until he had eight jugs in his hands and could not physically get anymore.

“Get the door, wench,” Jaime commanded. Brienne scowled but did get the door, smacking him over the head as he went through it. The light was flickering in the back. Jaime gave Podrick a smile. It wasn’t really his fault that Jaime hadn’t been able to speak to Brienne and, anyway, Jaime didn’t really have a reason to be this desperate to speak to her. They were only friends and could theoretically speak at any time. But she was always so busy with work and with her management course and Jaime was the worst at texting and-

“Do you want me to wash those?” Podrick interrupted. Jaime blinked and then nodded, awkwardly maneuvering his wrists so that he could plant the jugs down onto a tray, ready to go into the dishwasher.

“Thanks,” Jaime said before darting back into the bar, where Brienne was making a drink.

“Jaime!” the customer behind the coffee machines called. Jaime’s mouth fell open in surprise.

“Hey, it’s double pump sugar free vanilla skinny wet latte guy!” he said with a smile, shooting a look at Brienne, who looked flushed. Her flush nearly knocked the smile from taking the piss out of this prick from Jaime’s face. But nothing could do that. Hating on Hyle Hunt was one of Jaime’s favourite habits, especially when Brienne was there.

“You know my name, Jaime,” Hyle said with a grin. The prick was not quite as satisfying as he could be. He went along with Jaime’s teasing with good nature, generally, as though Jaime’s cracks were not good enough to hit him where it hurt. Jaime did know his name, though he liked to pretend that he didn’t. His drink was so ridiculous that it deserved to be taken the piss out of, and his demeanour was so entitled and irritating that Jaime liked to show him where he stood.

“There you are, Hyle. I hope it’s wet enough,” Brienne muttered as she passed the drink across to the prick. It was in a takeaway cup, thankfully. Sometimes the bastard decided to stay in and chat to them, as though they liked him. Which they did not. There were some regulars that Jaime happily chatted to. Hyle fucking Hunt was not one of them.

“I’m sure it will be,” Hyle said with a wink at Brienne. Jaime nearly growled. Brienne blushed. Jaime was half sure that Hyle only ordered his drink wet so that he could make puns about wetness in front of Brienne, to make her blush. He had no proof of this, of course, but why else would someone want a flat drink like that?

“Okay, bye-bye now, vanilla latte,” Jaime said, flapping his fingers towards his palm in a baby wave and standing closer to Brienne. He gave him a fake smile and Hyle laughed, winking at Jaime.

“See you soon, Brienne,” Hyle said, winking  _ again _ as he headed out of the café. Jaime watched him leave, his lip curling.

“See you soon, Brienne,” Jaime mocked with a stupid voice, heading back over to his till. He found Brienne looking at him with her I-take-no-shit-from-Lannisters face. “What?” Jaime protested, fiddling with the bow on the back of his apron. “The guy’s a prick!”

“I think he’s nice.”

“You think he’s nice?” Jaime repeated incredulously, his mouth dropping open. This, he could not believe. The amount of times they had bitched about the prick together and now she was coming out with this.  _ Nice _ .  _ Jaime _ was nice.  _ Jaime _ was the sort of guy people - Brienne - should call nice, not some stupid tall, blonde prick who ordered a sugary caffeinated drink at seven o’clock in the evening.

Brienne nodded and averted Jaime’s eye, focussing on cleaning the steam wand of their favourite coffee machine out of the two they had. Jaime narrowed his eyes. “What is going on?”

“He asked me out,” she commented lightly, her fingers brushing one of the little drinks tags they put on the stay-in cups. Jaime stormed over and plucked it off the side, wiggling it on his finger before clearing his throat.

“Text me,” he read, jolting his head dramatically. “Ugh, _ text me _ . What a prick.” 

Brienne grabbed it from Jaime’s hand. “What is wrong with text me?” she asked, a little defensively. Jaime narrowed his eyes.

“Do you  _ fancy _ him?” Jaime asked, ignoring her question. The door swung open and Podrick came in with some clean mugs. He looked between them, likely spotting Brienne’s red face and Jaime’s accusing one. He ducked his head and dashed to where they kept the clean mugs, stacking them carefully, quietly.

“There is nothing wrong with Hyle.”

Jaime scoffed. “There are lots of things wrong and very few right.”

“What is your problem?” Brienne demanded. Jaime shrugged and slinked back, past Podrick to the pastry case. Brienne followed him, hands on her hips. “Why can’t I date Hyle? It’s Christmas and I’m alone.”

Jaime made a face. “It’s Christmas and  _ I’m _ alone. What’s wrong with that?”

Brienne rolled her eyes, putting her hands on the top of the pastry case door and balancing on it. “It’s just sad, isn’t it?”

“Well, I didn’t think so until now.” Brienne’s lips twitched. “Don’t go out with that prick,” he asked a bit more seriously than earlier. Brienne narrowed her eyes and swallowed, her throat bobbing. She shrugged and went back to her cleaning of the coffee machines. Jaime watched her go, a funny feeling in his stomach.

**XXX**

“One Corona and one vodka and tonic,” Jaime said, sliding the drinks tray onto the high table they had chosen in the bar next door to Starbucks. He passed Podrick his vodka and tonic and the Corona to Brienne, taking his own from the tray which he then put on the spare stool, sliding onto one himself. He pushed the lime into the beer and took a sip, letting out a sigh at the bubbly sensation on his tongue.

“Well, Podrick, that was one hell of a first shift,” Brienne commented. She had got changed, no longer in the black and red of a Starbucks Christmas uniform, but in her own clothes, jeans and a hoodie. A few strands of her blonde hair had sneaked out from behind her ear. Jaime had an odd urge to reach over and push them back.

“I enjoyed it,” Podrick most certainly lied. Jaime snorted and Brienne met his eye, rubbing her lips against each other to avoid smiling.

“When is your next shift?” Jaime asked.

“Tomorrow. Twelve until four.” Jaime nodded. A baby shift. “What about you?”

“Erm, Friday. Close.” Brienne grimaced and Jaime caught it.

“I’m on the open.” Jaime nearly groaned aloud. Yet again, they would just miss each other, pass like ships in the night. Catelyn definitely had something against them working together. Jaime truly did not know why. They were very efficient. He wondered what they had done.

“How long have you worked here?” Podrick asked.

Brienne smiled at Jaime. “We started in the same month, four years ago. I got made a supervisor. Pretty trust fund boy here is still just a staff member.”

“Did you just call me pretty?” Jaime teased, fluttering his long eyelashes. Brienne kicked him under the table, making him smile into his beer bottle. Podrick excused himself to go to the toilet. Jaime groaned. “Why did you invite him?”

Brienne shrugged, looking affronted. “It would have been rude not to!” Jaime rolled his eyes. “Just because you don’t like other humans, doesn’t mean I don’t. But, yes, I did not expect him to say yes.”

“Did you want to be alone with me?” Jaime asked her, biting his lip sillily. Brienne pursed her lips and hit the bottom of her beer bottle against the rim of Jaime’s, making Jaime squawk in surprise and hurriedly press the bottle to his lips, before the foam overflowed. Brienne positively chortled. Jaime scowled around his beer.

“I enjoy when we close together,” she said, clearly slightly embarrassed by her admission. Jaime put the beer on the table, fairly certain it was finished overflowing. He brushed his thumb against her hand.

“I even enjoy opening with you.” Her throat bobbed and her eyes stared at where he was touching her hand. She opened her mouth to say something and then Podrick returned. Jaime quickly retreated his hand, his mouth in a grim line. She met his eyes, her lips just parted. Jaime gave her half a smile.

_ Next time _ , he thought.  _ Next time, I’ll tell her. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tomorrow: Teachers AU Christmas fair


	10. Christmas Fair Part 1: Teachers AU Part 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Christmas fair means some familiar faces come to see Jaime

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did intend to do this all in one go and have Tywin and Jaime talk in this chapter but it was just getting too long so I split it up! Hope you enjoy. The next bit will come out in a few days

“Hey, hey, you going to try and win this?” a voice asked, hidden behind a huge bar of Bourneville chocolate. Brienne narrowed her eyes.

“The chocolate bar or you?” she teased. Jaime moved the biggest bar of chocolate Brienne had ever seen away from his face, revealing his shockingly stupidly attractive face. His eyes, wide, sparkled.

“You can give me a go if you’d like,” Jaime said, his eyes narrowing as his shock discinded. Brienne could see his tongue between his teeth. He used that tone that made butterflies swarm in Brienne’s stomach, teasing and affectionate. It made things very confusing for Brienne, who was very fond of her friendship with Jaime. She did not want to screw things up with him.

Brienne blushed. She was never good at following up teasing, not like Jaime was. Jaime could take anything and make her blush or laugh. “I actually think I’d prefer the chocolate bar.” Bourneville was her favourite chocolate. Jaime rolled his eyes.

“You’ll have to win it off me,” Jaime said with a grin, laying the large bar out and reaching for the sellotape to stick a raffle ticket to it. Brienne rolled her eyes and turned to her own tombola, the far superior tombola. The teddy tombola was every child’s favourite Christmas fair stall - and every parent’s least favourite, knowing that they would likely return home with an ugly, too large teddy bear that they would have to find room for.

“Are you going to try and win a teddy bear off me?”

Jaime scoffed. “Of course. What sort of an uncle would I be if I did not force an ugly teddy bear into my niece’s cot?” Brienne gave him a side-eyed glance. “Entirely to piss off Sansa, yes. I’d ideally like a very bright, very big monster of some kind. Cait would love it and it would beautifully disrupt the neutral, fairy-tale themed nursery that has been foisted upon Cait, who is really more monster than fairy.”

Brienne scoffed. “I cannot believe you have just called your own niece a monster.”

“I’ve called my nephew a lot worse,” he said lightly. Before Brienne could ask which nephew and why, he continued, “and Cait is the wonderful coming together of my father’s favourite and least favourite family members. She is beautiful and very cute and every time I hold her she tugs on my beard so hard I feel as though I might cry.”

Brienne snorted. “I’m guessing your father doesn’t like Sansa,” she commented on his assessment of his father’s opinions of his family, straightening the row of ugly bunnies she had created in the organisation of her teddy tombola. Jaime scoffed loudly.

“Oh, no. If my father had the option, he would name Sansa his heir. He would completely cast me aside, cast Tyrion aside, even cast Cersei aside to have Sansa as his one and only child. She is the only one of us of which he is proud and he  _ will _ say that to our faces.”

Brienne blinked. Jaime’s tone was amused but not bitter, surprisingly. Sansa and Jaime had made small comments over the last few weeks about the Lannisters that had Brienne wondering on the odd family setup but this was just odd.

“So your brother is your father’s least favourite?”

Jaime chuckled. “Without a doubt. You’ll meet him today and, I assure you, you will immediately understand why.” Brienne shook her head to clear the confusion and refocused on her teddy bears. There were so many and they did not all fit on her table. And it gave her a good excuse to stop looking at Jaime Lannister’s face and try to quell the stupid feelings that he made erupt in her stomach.

**XXX**

The bell had barely rung to announce that the fair had opened when Jaime got his first customers, Gracie Mitchell and Aliyah Kelly, two girls who had been obsessed with him, and the boys from his class, ever since the angel-making activity that the year fives did with the year ones. It did not help that the two classes were doing the Christmas play together and, with only a few days to go, the rehearsals had stepped up, so they were all seeing rather a lot of each other.

It was  _ wonderful _ .

Gracie and Aliyah brought their mums with them, who bought each of them the tickets to try and win some chocolate. Jaime glanced over at Brienne as he held out the box for the girls to pull tickets from, attempting to find a number that ended with a 0 or 5. When Jaime looked back at the little girls, both had pulled one out. Jaime congratulated them and then found the chocolates they had won, one of which was the huge bar of Bourneville.

Jaime found Brienne already looking at him when he turned to mouth “bad luck” at her, handing Gracie the chocolate. Mrs Mitchell and Miss Kelly’s giggles drew Jaime’s attention back to them, away from Brienne’s full, twitching lips. “It’s very nice, isn’t it,” Mrs Mitchell said with a grin, “that you could get two stalls next to each other.” She wagged her finger between Jaime and Brienne. Jaime gave Mrs Mitchell as much of a smile as he could muster and offered her a sweet, which she took, before striding off with her daughter and the Kellys, a knowing look on her face.

Jaime rolled his eyes dramatically at Brienne which had her smiling, to Jaime’s general contentment. He then turned back to his stall, finding more and more customers flooding it. Chocolate for cheap was always a big draw for children.

**XXX**

They were an hour into the fair when Brienne met Tyrion Lannister.

She did indeed immediately understand why Jaime’s father did not like his younger son. Tyrion Lannister was a dwarf. His little daughter, who was barely one-year-old, must have been a struggle for him to carry, but he smiled and did not complain.

“Oh, look, it’s my favourite brother,” Jaime called as he found his brother at the stall. Brienne watched him as much as she could, while she dealt with the children who were desperate to win a teddy. Tyrion had a similar voice to Jaime, Brienne noticed as he greeted his brother.

When Brienne next had a chance to look over at the brothers, she found Jaime holding his niece and talking to her. The hall was too busy to hear his whispers but he was smiling as though his niece was the most precious thing in the world.

She was beautiful, with Sansa and Catelyn’s auburn hair and big blue eyes, and, just like Jaime said, she was tugging on his beard and giggling madly. Jaime caught her looking and his smile widened. His stall was quiet for the moment, most of the chocolate having run out. Jaime approached her with the little girl on his hip. Brienne’s stomach did that funny thing it did when she was around Jaime.

“Cait, do you want to meet Uncle Jaime’s friend?” Jaime asked the girl, meeting her eyes. Cait nodded her head eagerly. Brienne heard Tyrion chuckle from behind them.

“Brienne, this is Caitriona,” Jaime said, stroking her hair.

“Jaime,” Tyrion interrupted as Brienne reached out to squeeze Cait’s pudgy little hands with a smile. Jaime glanced over, leaving Brienne to meet Cait’s big blue eyes. This girl must have got everything she ever wanted, just by flashing those beautiful baby blues.

“It’s nice to meet you, Cait,” Brienne whispered.

“Where can I find my wife?” Tyrion asked, his eyebrows raising on his oddly misshapen face. Jaime rolled his eyes at Brienne but he was smiling. Brienne knew that Jaime was very happy about his brother’s relatively recent marriage and fatherhood. They had spoken about it one evening when he had come to do work in her classroom.

“She’s at the coconut shy. Tell her I’m keeping her baby.”

Tyrion left with a bark of a laugh, the baby still in Jaime’s arms. It was making Brienne feel all sorts of funny things, watching him with a child. A young child. She watched him with children most days, especially since the rehearsals for the Christmas play had ramped up. This week, she had spent most afternoons kneeling on a cushion next to him while they acted out various stupid actions and read out lines when the children forgot them. It had been very enjoyable.

“Oh, you are especially cuddly today, Cait,” Jaime cooed to the baby, who brought up a tiny little hand to hit his face. Jaime blinked in surprise. Brienne, smiling, saw, in the corner of her eye, that Jaime had a customer wanting to try and win one of the five remaining bars of chocolate. She pointed this out to Jaime who tutted and said, “hold Cait for a second,” before dashing back to the counter.

The little girl  _ was _ very cuddly, in a fluffy grey jumpsuit. “Have you come to see your uncle, Cait?” Brienne cooed, propping her up on her hip. Caitriona made some little gurgling noises. Brienne nodded as if she had said something very important. “Yes, that’s right. Your uncle did promise to get you a teddy. Shall we choose one for him to win for you?”

Brienne went around the many remaining teddies and made commentary on a few, to Cait’s enjoyment, she thought. “What about this one, Cait? Do you think it will be bright enough for Jaime?”

“Is that what he wanted?” Sansa’s voice interrupted, her tone amused. Brienne turned to Sansa, feeling heat rush to her face. She smiled sheepishly. “He does this as often as he can, finds something completely inappropriate for my beautiful nursery.”

“And I stand by that,” Jaime replied as he darted back over to Brienne’s stall to stand beside Brienne and make cutesy faces at Cait. Brienne had to turn her head until her neck complained to look at him, but it was worth it to see him cooing over the baby. Even making stupid faces, his face was very pleasingly attractive.

“Could I have my daughter, please, Brienne?” Sansa asked, interrupting Brienne’s admiration of Jaime. Brienne nodded and shifted her arms around to transfer the girl to her mother. Jaime groaned in complaint.

“You get to have Cait cuddles all the time,” he groused at his sister-in-law. Brienne chuckled, watching the thirty-plus man literally pout.

Tyrion cleared his throat. “Father is here, Jaime.” Brienne tensed as she watched Jaime’s mouth fall open. She knew enough about Jaime’s father now to know that that was surprising.

“Is Cersei?” he asked, his voice slightly strained. Brienne watched him curiously. His smile at the sight of Caitriona had finally diminished. Tyrion shook his head.

“Not Cersei, but the-”

“Uncle Jaime!” a loud voice interrupted, another one with the posh trust fund accent that Jaime and Tyrion shared. Sansa met eyes with Brienne and widened her eyes meaningfully. Unfortunately, Brienne did not understand the meaning. She assumed it had something to do with Jaime’s family.

The voice was attached to a teenager, perhaps fifteen years old. She was tall and had golden curls, very similar to Jaime’s. “Myrcella,” Jaime said in surprise. Brienne could not tell if he was pleased or not to see the girl who must be his niece. She was very old to be his niece. Not for the first time, Brienne wondered how old Jaime was. He knew that Myrcella's mother was his twin and to have a fifteen year old daughter... Well, Jaime's sister could have been a young mother. But Myrcella was the middle child. She had an older brother who Brienne knew was even older. Perhaps Brienne would just ask, at some point. Not now.

“Are you not happy to see me, Uncle Jaime?” Myrcella teased. Jaime’s face broke into a smile that Brienne thought might have been slightly forced.

“I am always happy to see you, ‘Cella,” Jaime replied. “What are you doing here? Are your brothers here?”

“Joffrey’s not,” Myrcella said with a look that suggested he was the bad nephew Jaime had referred to earlier. Unless both nephews were bad. But Brienne knew that Joffrey was the elder nephew and Tommen, the younger, had had far less time to become the bad nephew. Joffrey seemed the likely candidate in Brienne's eyes. Noticing she was staring at Myrcella while she thought of this, Brienne blinked and averted her eyes. She didn't want Jaime's family to think she was a freak. 

“Tommen is somewhere with Grandad. They were looking for Sansa,” Myrcella said, nodding at Sansa and the baby. Sansa smiled down at the baby. Brienne watched, amused, as Tyrion and Jaime shared a roll of their eyes.

“I would have thought you were too cool to come to Christmas fairs, ‘Cella,” Jaime said to the teenager, who pursed her lips.

“I definitely am,” she replied and Jaime barked out a laugh, “but otherwise who would come to see you? You’d be sad and alone on your stall.” Brienne could not control the laugh that escaped her at Jaime's niece's bluntness. Jaime shot angry, amused eyes at her. Brienne grinned at him.

Jaime looked back to his niece and gestured to his brother, sister-in-law and baby niece. “Tyrion is here.”

Myrcella rolled her eyes. “Uncle Tyrion is here to see his beautiful wife. And this isn’t actually your stall.”

That was true and Brienne gave Jaime a raised-eyebrows look to tell him she agreed. Jaime gave her a faux-wounded look that made Brienne smile. “Fine, fine,” he said, with a groan. “Why didn’t Joffrey come?”

Myrcella narrowed her eyes at her uncle as though it was a very stupid question to ask. “Because he’s too much like my bitch of a mother.” Brienne blinked in surprise at the statement. She glanced at Jaime and found him looking a bit on edge. She wondered what his relationship was like with his sister. All the twins she knew were very close. Perhaps the case was the same here.

“Okay,” Sansa intervened, placing her hand on Myrcella’s shoulder. “Come on, missy. Cait wants to meet Father Christmas and you can come with us.” The two walked away with Caitriona, Sansa shooting a confused look at Tyrion over her shoulder. Jaime cleared his throat.

“I mean, that was fairly accurate,” Tyrion said with an amused glance at Jaime, who scowled. Tyrion rolled his eyes. “Yes, yes, Jaime, whatever. I’m going to go and look for Tommen.”

With that, Tyrion left and Brienne had to quell the burning curiosity to ask for details about Jaime’s odd family. “Please don’t ask,” Jaime said quietly to her. Brienne shook her head.

“I wasn’t going to,” she said honestly. “Go and get rid of the rest of your chocolate and then you can help me on here.”

**XXX**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next up: a classic bedsharing trope


	11. Bedsharing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime and Brienne share a bed at Harrenhal

Brienne sighed as her fingers brushed the cold walls approaching her bed chambers. The dark brick made the walls look almost wet but they were only cold, the sort of cold that seeped into bones. It had been months since Brienne had last slept in a comfortable bed, or a bed at all. She only hoped that this bed would be layered with covers so that she would not have yet another cold night.

She’d dismissed the girl delivering her to the rooms almost immediately, after demanding the directions to the room. The maid had been tittering, giggling about something or other. Brienne had spent too much of her life being mocked and the laughter was always the worst part. She was too tired not to take her sword to the annoying girl’s stomach, so she had got rid of her.

Brienne took the final turn, that the maid had warned her to look carefully for because it was not expected. There had been far too much that Brienne had not expected over the past few months. She’d grown used to the feeling of constantly looking out for surprises.

The door opened easily when Brienne pushed at it, opening into a dimly lit room. “Oh, perfect,” she heard a sleepy voice say from over by the shadowy four-poster bed. Brienne was surprised by this. Her heart seemed to jump in her chest. Had she got the directions wrong? She nearly groaned. She did not have the energy to return to find that tittering maid. “You can bar the door, wench,” the voice said and Brienne identified it as Jaime. Confusion clouded her brain.

“What-” she said before cutting herself off. She wasn’t entirely sure of what she was going to say anyway.

“I don’t want to get up,” he said. As her eyes adjusted to the dark, Brienne could see that he was lying on his stomach on the bed. “Bar the door. I can’t sleep without a barred door.”

That confession hit Brienne almost as much as his earlier one did. Every fact about Jaime startled Brienne, perhaps because it painted a picture of a man so dissimilar to the one she had expected. Of course, his bathtub confession earlier that day had done that the most. But not being able to sleep without a barred door told Brienne a lot too. A distrusting man, likely afraid of the dark. Possibly a light sleeper.

Brienne dismissed all of that nonsense. These feelings for her captive were another of those pesky surprises. “Why are you in my room?” she demanded, walking further into the room but not closing the door. She saw him more clearly, splayed on blue covers, his head rested on his hands. He was no longer wearing rags, but the clothes clearly did not fit. Brienne could see where the material was sagging to the bed.

His head shook, though he did not look up. “The pricks who brought us here told whoever assigns beds that we’re shagging,” he said and his voice was sleepy rather than annoyed or amused. Brienne had enough energy to be annoyed, though. Was it too much to ask to just have an enjoyable night’s sleep?

“Did you not think to go and tell them they are wrong?” Brienne asked impatiently. He shook his head again.

“Thought about it. Decided against it.”

Brienne exhaled in irritation. “Well, I will go now,” she said. Jaime groaned dramatically and rolled over.

“Just come and lie down. I’m too tired to change room.”

Brienne tutted. “Well, then, I will change room.”

“You’re tired too,” he said and Brienne hesitated. She was tired. And that bed had fewer layers than Brienne wanted. Jaime’s slightly feverish body would provide body heat. “Come on, wench. Lie down. I promise not to jump you in your sleep,” he said and his eyes were closed.

“Fine,” Brienne ground out. Jaime didn’t open his eyes but Brienne thought his mouth might have twitched into half a smile. Brienne turned to close and bar the door.

“Thank you,” Jaime said through a yawn. Brienne nodded though he couldn’t see her. “They brought a nightgown for you,” he said, gesturing vaguely behind him. Brienne furrowed her nose. “I won’t look.”

Brienne wondered if that was true. He’d looked earlier when she had stood naked in front of him. Uneasily, she searched around the room for the nightgown Jaime referred too. If she wasn’t so set on having a good night’s sleep, she would have slept in her breeches. She had always found gowns easier to sleep in, less restricting.

She found the gown. It was grey in colour and shorter than Brienne would have preferred. She really did not have the energy to complain. She glanced warily at Jaime. If he opened his eyes, he was in the perfect position to see her naked. And she did not want him to. Once was enough. She was not a curiosity.

Turning her back to him, she fiddled with the laces on her boots and then breeches and then her shirt before throwing the nightgown over the head, hoping she had done that quickly enough that Jaime would not have peeked to see what was taking her so long. 

Creeping around to the other side of the bed, Brienne lifted the green coverlet that Jaime was lying on top of. “Move,” Brienne commanded. Jaime groaned but he did roll himself to a standing position.

“You’re very demanding, wench, and we’re not even in bed yet.”

Brienne pursed her lips at the innuendo and focussed on pulling back the sheets until she could slide in. Jaime slid in too. Brienne lay flat but Jaime lay facing her, his green eyes fluttering open and closed slowly. His stump lay sadly between them.

“I’m sorry,” Brienne whispered, looking at it. He flinched it away so that it wasn’t visible, his eyes closing. Brienne wondered if he had known she could see it. “Thank you for saving me.”

Brienne saw his throat bob and she kept her eyes on his, wishing the light was better so that she could see his face. Flickering candlelight was not sufficient. Jaime did not say anything to Brienne’s statement. She doubted he had ever been thanked by any of the population of King’s Landing for saving them. Her throat burned with the injustice.

Reaching between them, Brienne found his stump and held it carefully, aware of his green eyes on hers. “I will always remember you as a hero, a true knight,” she told him honestly. “For this,” she said, nodding at his stump, “and for what you told me.”

She watched as he swallowed again. He blinked a few times and Brienne wondered if he felt the same burning in his throat as her. She bent to press a kiss to his stump, soft as she possibly could, and then let go, turning over to sleep. Kissing his stump had been bold and she wasn’t sure she could meet his eyes now. But she hoped that he could see that there was some good to telling his story, that at least one person saw him truly, through the lens of his true deeds, not of rumours and lies.

Brienne pressed her head into the pillow, wishing it were softer. She closed her eyes tightly. Today had been eventful and she wanted to sleep. She just wanted to sleep for hours and hours and wake up on Tarth, with her father and the sea and the storms. A voice in Brienne’s mind mocked her for romanticising the past, and the shuffling body behind her reminded her of the good things that had come from leaving.

He drew up close behind her, close enough that Brienne could feel his body moulded to hers. His movements were tentative, so, carefully, Brienne tried to move to show that she accepted his presence there. This had been exactly what she had purported not to want when she had entered the room and, yet, she wouldn’t push him away if she had all the energy in the world. 

When he reached his arm over her, landing lightly on her stomach, Brienne wrapped a hand around his elbow and hold him there tightly, closing her eyes against the prickling of tears. His face pressed into her neck, Brienne quickly realised she was not the only one feeling the emotional rigour of the past few months, of the past day. His tears were warm against her.

A braver, more confident woman would have turned and held him, would have curled up with him so that they were like a cocoon, holding each other. Instead, Brienne lay there, his arm tight against her stomach, his breath hot and shuddering against her neck, his tears trickling uncomfortably onto her back, and she cried too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tomorrow: Jaime goes back in time part 2


	12. Back in Time part 2

“Brienne,” he breathed. He met her eyes, blue and bright with tears. She wasn’t so far away that he couldn’t see her crestfallen face, so much more than her usual scowl that he had seen her face adorned with the night before. Her hair was braided, pulled back from her face in an unattractive manner. She stepped backwards and tripped against the wall, stumbling to the ground ungracefully. Jaime couldn’t keep in the chuckle that escaped him as he reached her and offered her a hand to pull her up.

“Are you a woman?” Jaime said in faux disbelief, similar to what he had asked Catelyn Stark when he had first met Brienne. He found himself grinning when she elbowed him forcefully in the stomach. That cleared that up. Only  _ his _ Brienne would do that. “I just thought I should start the way I started last time, to make you fall in love with me again.”

Brienne tutted and rolled her eyes. “I assure you it was not that comment that had me falling in love with you.”

“But you admit you did?” Jaime returned. Brienne scowled.

“That depends: have you just  _ fucked _ Cersei?” she asked and the control over her facial features was almost impressive. She must have been taking lessons from Sansa. Jaime’s eyes widened and he glanced at the direction Cersei had sauntered off in. “Because, if you  _ have _ , I swear to all seven gods, Jaime-”

Jaime sighed. His hand twitched. He wanted to reach for her, to press his two hands on her cheeks and bring her close. “Of course I haven’t just fucked Cersei. Why would I do that when I have a long-haired wench waiting for me?” He reached for her braid and pulled it lightly, enjoying her scowl. He brought the braid over her shoulder and placed it down gently, caressing her shirt-covered shoulder lightly with the pad of his thumb. “I promise you, Brienne. That’s all over, I promise. She came to me and I refused her.”

Brienne nodded a bit shakily. “I trust you,” she said with half a smile and Jaime’s stomach squirmed, remembering sitting up in their bed at Winterfell, ready to leave.

“Come into my chambers,” Jaime said, feeling dread fall like a brick in his stomach “I need to talk to you.”

When he was finished telling her what he nearly did, what he was going to do, she was silent. Sat on the armchair by the fireplace, she was utterly silent. Jaime listened carefully to ensure she was breathing as he paced relentlessly by the window. His stomach grumbled and Brienne did not react. Jaime sat down on the bed and Brienne did not react. Only when he opened his mouth to say something, unable to bear the tension in the room, did she open her mouth too.

“What were you going to do?” she croaked, as though she had not spoken for a long time, or as though she were holding back tears. Jaime obviously knew it was the latter and he hated it so much, hated himself so much.

“Take her somewhere,” Jaime said honestly. “Keep her safe until the baby came and then bring them both back, keep the baby and let Cersei be tried.”

Brienne scoffed. “You would never have let them kill Cersei.”

Jaime looked away from her cerulean eyes. He didn’t know if he would have either. Thankfully, it never got that far. Thankfully, the gods or fate or Bran bloody Stark sent them back in time before Jaime could irrevocably fuck up his love life. In hindsight, Jaime had really just said a big fuck you to his benefactor by telling Brienne.

“I don’t know what I would have done,” Jaime told her. Brienne nodded. “I just- I couldn’t let them kill another one of my children. I wanted to be-”

“A father? Well, I don’t suppose you had anything other opportunities.” Brienne sounded bitter, so unhappy that Jaime rushed over to her and knelt down by her legs, pressing a kiss to her knee. She jerked away from him. “Don’t, Jaime.”

“Of course I want your children.  _ Of course I do _ . Don’t doubt-”

“You keep saying of course, Jaime!  _ Of course _ you didn’t sleep with Cersei.  _ Of course _ you wanted to have children with me. Why am I supposed to just believe you?”

Jaime shook his head, blinking back desperate tears. “I couldn’t bear the idea that I would have a child with you and one day have to tell it that I didn’t fight for its brother or sister, that I let four of my children die before it arrived, okay, Brienne? I don’t know how to make you believe me. I just need you to trust me.”

She was silent a few instants. “I do trust you,” she said and a smile rose unbidden on Jaime’s face, hopeful and wary of what she would say next. “But it’s going to take a while to-”

“To get over me trying to leave you,” Jaime said with a nod. “I know. That’s why I told you straight away. This way, I can make you trust me again and then we can have lots of great sex.” Brienne gave him a disapproving look but Jaime waved at her with his right hand. “I have two hands now.”

She did grin at that. “I’m very happy for you.”

“I’m very happy for  _ you _ ,” Jaime said with undertones that he hoped made her anticipate what he was going to do to her, when she was ready to trust him fully again. And she would. He was going to prove to her that she was all he wanted. She blushed and looked away. “This is my better hand too. You can’t imagine how good my fingers are going to make you come.”

“Jaime!” Brienne cried, pressing her hands against her cheeks. Jaime smirked. “Jaime,” Brienne said, her tone slightly more level. “I need-” she cut herself off and swallowed, her throat bobbing. She held out a hand to him, where he was still kneeling by her knees. “I need some time.”

“I know, love,” he said softly, pressing another kiss to her knee. He leaned his head against her thigh and they sat there in silence for a few moments. Jaime listened to Brienne’s breathing, wondering how he had gone so long without it, wondering how he was ever going to leave her. How could he have listened to this and thought he could leave? “I missed you,” Jaime whispered, glancing up at her blue eyes. She managed to move her lips upwards for him and he saw that her eyes sparkled. She nodded in a way that Jaime thought might have meant that she felt the same.

“I thought I might arrive and you wouldn’t remember,” Brienne said. Jaime swallowed. If she had not remembered, he was certain that he would have been able to make her fall in love with him, eventually. She was kind and good and she would have listened to him until she realised that he loved her. If he had not remembered, she would have arrived here to find a Cersei-obsessed bastard, being led around by the possibility of a fuck once a month or so, doing whatever it took to keep Cersei and their secret safe. The thought brought bile to Jaime’s fault.

“Jaime,” she said a few more moments later, when Jaime’s face was pressed fully into her thigh, trying to stop the thoughts of how awful life without her was. Jaime glanced up to her. “I’m a maiden.”

Jaime nearly choked, at the fact that the words were coming out of her mouth and at the reminder that she was in a body of before Jaime had taken her maidenhead, half-drunk and fumbling. “I- Brienne,” he breathed, looking up at her. Surely she knew what she had just said to him.

She had started speaking again when a mad plan came to Jaime. He drew away from her and the change of position made her stop speaking. Standing, Jaime turned around the room slowly, searching for something, anything, that would fulfil his purpose. She said his name and he shot her a smile as his circle of the room finished, his search a failure.

Jaime shook his head. “No matter.” Jaime sank to one knee instead of two this time.

“Jaime.” Her tone was full of warning but Jaime would ask and he would ask once. If she said no, then he would fight for her to be his lover, fight to regain her trust and be happy with her as his lover while he was a kingsguard. But this was what he wanted. He wanted to share a name, to share a life, a bedchamber.

“Marry me,” he said. He didn’t smile because he did not want her to believe it a jest. He pressed a kiss to her knee again. “Marry me. I know that it is a small gesture and currently rather an empty gesture because I am a kingsguard, but we’ll find a loophole, we’ll escape that and then get married and live happily ever after with seven children or no children or as many children as you want-”

Jaime hardly breathed. His mind rambled and so his mouth rambled. He’d never had much of a filter. He was almost grateful when she cut him off. “Jaime,” she said, a soft smile at her lips. For a moment, Jaime thought she was going to laugh at him. “Let’s get married.”

A laugh escaped Jaime’s lips, full of relief and love for this woman, who was smiling, so crooked and imperfect and yet so beautiful and loved. He rose up. “Can I- can I kiss you?” Jaime asked, rather unsure. Brienne nodded, biting her lip. Jaime smiled and leaned down, giving her a very small, very soft kiss on her lips. She pulled away and Jaime brushed her chinbone with his thumb.

He had a long way to go but he had just made the most important step.

**XXX**

Brienne sighed and pulled herself out of Jaime’s embrace, ignoring his whine of discontent. “I have to go, Jaime. If Cersei finds out you’ve had me here for this long-”

“You’re the only thing I care about now,” Jaime groaned. Brienne stood and brushed out the creases on her tunic, hating the word now, hating the fact that she wondered when she had become the only thing he cared about. He had clearly cared about something else more when he had started to leave her at Winterfell. 

Instead of bringing that up, Brienne said, “Yes, well, Cersei doesn’t know that.” Brienne sighed. “I have to go, Jaime, else there will be rumours. We don’t want that if we want you to be honourably discharged from the kingsguard.”

Jaime rolled his eyes to the ceiling. “It’s you that cares if it’s honourably-”

“You should care too!” Brienne protested, anger surging inside her. He was not taking this as seriously as he should. “If you have another mark against your name, Jaime-”

“You forget, wench, that, in this timeline, I’ve done less deplorable things. Catelyn Stark doesn’t know that I threw her child out of a window. I haven’t driven the Tullys out of their own home-”

“But you are still the Kingslayer.” Brienne sighed. “I’ll see you later, Jaime.”

“When?” Jaime asked with a pout. Brienne pursed her lips and headed towards the door. He was frustrating her by not being able to see past their potential happiness. There was so much more to consider. The fate of the Seven Kingdoms lay on their shoulders. Brienne wanted to think about what they could change to make things work perfectly this time. She wanted to protect Sansa most of all and was fairly certain she could start that now.

With one final look at Jaime, Brienne unbarred the door and went to step out. “Wow, are you a giantess?” a voice said from down below. Brienne closed her eyes and let go of the door.

“Jaime,” she muttered. Tyrion Lannister was standing, ready to be let into Jaime’s chambers. She wondered how long he had been standing there, how much he could hear from outside. Even if he could hear nothing, he had just seen her leaving his brother’s chambers, the same brother who he believed to be obsessively in love with Cersei.

Brienne felt Jaime come to her shoulder. She stiffened. “Tyrion,” Jaime said levelly. Tyrion was looking between them with undisguised curiosity. “Come in. Brienne, you should probably stay a while longer.”

His voice was so controlled. Tyrion stepped into the room. Brienne returned to the chair she had been sitting on, though she sat on the far end, while earlier she had been practically sat on Jaime, her betrothed. Jaime had proposed to her. Brienne could hardly focus on it, what with everything they needed to do and fix. It was not the priority, not for Brienne.

“Tyrion,” Jaime said, once his brother had perched himself on the armchair across from the chaise longue that Jaime and Brienne sat. “This is my betrothed, Brienne of Tarth.”

It  _ was _ Jaime’s priority, however.

Brienne closed her eyes for an instant and then opened them, shooting a glare at Jaime, who grinned, turning to his brother whose jaw hung open. “She’s not quite as excited as I am, more practical than me,” he said in a confessional tone that made Brienne want to hit him over his head.

“I-” Tyrion started before cutting himself off. “Jaime, you are betrothed?”

Jaime nodded and he reached over to put his hand on Brienne’s knee. Brienne glanced down at the hand with disgust. Two-handed Jaime was far more handsy than one-handed Jaime, for obvious reasons. It also helped that Brienne was the first woman that he could touch without reserve. Thoughts like that threatened Brienne’s resolve to focus on the realm. She wanted to be married to Jaime so that he could love without reserve, without hiding.

Tyrion looked between them, his jaw hanging open. “How old is she?”

Brienne had barely considered the question herself. “Ten-and-eight.” She heard Jaime choke next to her.

“You  _ are _ ?” he asked incredulously. Brienne widened her eyes at him. She wondered if he had known that she was only twenty-and-two when he slept with her at Winterfell. “Okay, yes, sorry, of course you are. What is your point, Tyrion?”

Tyrion shrugged. “She’s just rather young.” Brienne and Jaime shared a look, lips twitching. In this timeline, Tyrion was less than a year away from marrying a ten-and-three year old. “And, Jaime, you have-”

“He does not,” Brienne interrupted. Jaime smiled at her, brushing his thumb across her knee lightly. Brienne gave him a soft smile.

“My betrothed is right, Tyrion. Cersei can go and fuck herself, although I’m sure she’ll find someone else to do the job for her, and I have plans to have Father have me dismissed from the kingsguard so that I can marry Brienne.”

Tyrion seemed utterly bewildered. Brienne understood the feeling well. It was the way she had been feeling since she had woken in Tarth a week or so ago. Possibly she had been feeling that way since Jaime had arrived at Winterfell, or since she had met him even. “Jaime, I don’t understand. What changed? Where did you find this woman?”

“A bearpit,” Jaime replied with a serious tone. Tyrion looked horrified, as though Jaime had just insulted his betrothed. Brienne, however, felt bubbles of laughter rising inside her. It wasn’t even true but it was funny and just served to confuse Tyrion even more. Peals of laughter fell from Brienne’s lips and she found Jaime grinning at her, proudly like he always did when he made her laugh properly. It was similar to the way he looked when he gave her an orgasm, although, admittedly, less heated.

“Jaime,” Tyrion said and his tone was rather desperate. Brienne glanced at Jaime and he just winked at her.

“We’re from the future, Tyrion,” Jaime said and Brienne inhaled sharply. They had not discussed this. “Last week, I woke up here and thought I was dead because, when I went to sleep, I had been at Winterfell. Last night, Brienne arrived from Tarth to figure out whether or not I had come back like her. So, here we are, four years earlier, lots of people still alive, lots of things undone and unsaid.” Brienne gave him a disbelieving look to which he winked at her again. That look made Brienne’s insides burn.

“You’re jesting,” Tyrion said, looking between them with a smile that soon fell when neither of their faces cracked into smiles. “Right, yes. I suppose that would explain your odd behaviour of late. Tell me about the future.”

Jaime glanced at Brienne, who reached for him and wrapped her hands around his forearm. She nodded at him and he began to explain the future, from when they were, to when they had fallen asleep at Winterfell. Brienne listened to Jaime speak, enjoying the odd sensation of listening to parts of her own story from his perspective. He described some things in more detail than others, entirely leaving out some of Brienne and his story. He did not mention any bathtubs, for example. Brienne was rather glad. Those moments were theirs alone.

He finished by explaining his plan to leave Brienne at Winterfell. Brienne found herself turning away, tears pricking the backs of her eyes. It wasn’t that she didn’t understand his motivations. She even believed that he loved her. But it still hurt. Jaime reached for her and Brienne let him wrap an arm around her front, curling close to her. She took comfort from his touch, even if it was he who was hurting her. If he had let Cersei die, pregnant with his child, Brienne knew that he wouldn’t have been Jaime. It just hurt so much.

Tyrion’s eyes darted between them. Brienne hated the look in his eyes, anger burning inside her. He was likely comparing her to Cersei, wondering why she was the woman that finally broke him away from his sister’s grip, especially now he knew that Jaime was going to leave her. Humiliation burned through Brienne and she had to break apart from Jaime, his touch suddenly unbearable. Angry tears burned in her eyes.

“What is your plan?” Tyrion asked quietly. Jaime hesitated.

“I want to marry Brienne,” he said and Brienne closed her eyes. Perhaps she should just let herself have this, a marriage. Jaime was so insistent but Brienne knew they had to protect the realm. But it could take years to protect everyone as fully as they wanted to, could take years to ensure that no war started between the Starks and Lannisters. And Brienne wanted to stay with Jaime through that. It would eventually make sense for Brienne to be with the Starks, protecting them, and Jaime to be with his family. Brienne didn’t want that. She wanted them to be together.

“Father will have you dismissed,” Tyrion said with a nod. “You should leave for Casterly Rock immediately. I will discover whether or not Jon Arryn already knows that the children are yours, Jaime. If not, I will destroy this book that Cersei told you about. I’m sure I can find it.”

Jaime nodded and Brienne felt a surge of gratitude for Tyrion. Jaime had made the right decision to tell him. Brienne wondered why he had not earlier. She reached for Jaime again, taking his hand around his wrist and he exhaled with something that sounded like relief. Brienne shuffled closer to him. She knew she was blowing hot and cold but he would have to be patient and take what was given. His other arm crawled around her back, his fingers curling at her waist. He pressed his head to her chin. Brienne smiled.

“I will go and talk to Ser Barristan about going to see Father,” Jaime said to his brother. “If Jon Arryn already knows about the children, you must make sure that Littlefinger and Lady Lysa cannot kill him.”

Tyrion nodded severely. “I understand what is at stake, Jaime.”

Jaime nodded and then buried his face into Brienne’s neck. Brienne didn’t see anything pass between Jaime and Tyrion but Tyrion seemed to know that he had been dismissed. He closed the door behind him and Jaime curled his arms around Brienne. “I love you,” he whispered. Brienne nodded against his head.

“I love you too, Jaime.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am going to be doing at least a third part for this. It's planned out and it is coming out in December.
> 
> If I decide to continue it further, I will take these two parts and put them into a separate fic. However, it would be a short one, like Kingslayer, as I already have a few WIPs in this fandom and also in other fandoms.
> 
> Tomorrow: Christmas fair part 2


	13. Christmas Fair Part 2: Teachers AU PArt 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Second part of chapter 10, fifth part of the Teachers AU

Jaime joined Brienne soon after Tyrion had left, all the chocolate gone but many teddies remaining. They worked together to make the queue go down and then had a few moments to themselves, to chat about whatever came to mind. That was what Jaime liked most about Brienne. He could talk to her about anything.

He even thought he could speak to her about Cersei.

He wanted to tell her about Cersei.

It was the first time Jaime had ever wanted to tell her about Cersei. He knew that his brother knew, and he was fairly certain Sansa knew, but nobody else did. Because Jaime had never told anyone and nor had Cersei. It was quite a nice feeling, wanting to share his secret.

But, for now, given that they were at a children’s Christmas fair, Jaime kept the conversation to the Christmas play and school, trying to make her laugh as much as he possibly could. Cersei had once said to him, scornfully, that he could joke his way into a girl’s trousers. Perhaps it would come true here.

“Jaime,” a harsh voice interrupted Jaime’s story about the boys in his class who had written a speech and delivered it to him about how unfair it was that the little kiddies got all the good roles. Brienne had been laughing. Trust Jaime’s father to ruin things.

With not a little reluctance, Jaime turned to his father. Seeing Cait in his arms, tugging at his beard, broke Jaime’s stone face. “Father,” Jaime said, keeping his eyes on Cait’s, rather than his father’s. Jaime felt Brienne still beside him. “Are you here to win Cait a teddy, Father?”

His father did not give Jaime’s comment a response, though he did brush Cait’s face with his thumb. “Your sister wishes to see you.” Jaime let his eyes stay closed for an instant longer after blinking. He had not seen Cersei in six months and he had no wish to see her now. Jaime glanced at Brienne.

“I am far too busy to deal with my sister at the moment, Father,” he said stiffly. Brienne was surely going to ask about Cersei now. Perhaps Jaime should start practising what to say about it. He did not want to explain himself poorly because he got flustered.

“Very well,” his father said. Jaime blinked in surprise. It was unlike his father to give up on something so quick- “She will be with us on Christmas Day.”

Jaime nearly swore aloud. Thankfully tearing his eyes away from his father and niece reminded him of where they were and convinced him not to. “Why is she not spending it with Robert and the children like she usually does?”

His father gave him a severe look that had Jaime scowling. “Your sister does not wish to spend Christmas with her ex-husband and his family when she has a family of her own to see.”

“Our Christmas is hardly anything to write home about,” Jaime scoffed. He was very conscious of Brienne standing next to him, listening to the conversation. Jaime thought his father would care too. “Tyrion and Sansa will likely not come if Cersei is.”

“Sansa has already promised that they will be there, for half of the day, as usual.”

Well, that ruined the last of Jaime’s excuses as to why Cersei could not come. He didn’t think his father would take to kindly to the others that he had stored up. Stifling a sigh, he decided he could cope with one day of Cersei, if he must. He could always leave early, when Tyrion and Sansa did. The last thing he wanted was to be in a room with just Cersei and his father. Surely the children would still spend the holidays with their father. Who would voluntarily choose to spend time with Cersei? Not that Robert was a particular prize truthfully...

Jaime furrowed his brow. “What’s going on with Myrcella and Cersei?” he asked. Tywin gave Jaime a look to say that he was fed up with the whole thing.

“Myrcella and your sister have fallen out over something stupid that Cersei did, though Myrcella will not give me any details and nor will Cersei. It’s been going on for over a month.” Jaime’s eyebrows rose in surprise and he turned to Brienne, who looked completely nonplussed, of course.

“Father, this is Brienne Tarth,” Jaime said, suddenly remembering his manners. He gestured to Brienne, who gave his father half a smile. “She teaches year one.”

“Oh,” Tywin said and his face lit up as much as it ever did. “You must work with Sansa?”

“Yes,” Brienne confirmed, her lips twitching. Jaime was glad he had already told her of his father’s preference for Sansa because now she could appreciate it in all its evidence. “She is a wonderful workmate. As is, of course, Jaime.” Jaime felt his heart bubble with ridiculous happiness. He hoped it did not completely reflect on his face because his father would not think much of it, although perhaps Brienne would. And he cared far more for Brienne’s opinion that his father’s.

“Sansa is a wonder,” his father said, ignoring Brienne’s comment about Jaime. Jaime was unsurprised but he saw Brienne’s face muscles twitch. She clearly had not entirely believed Jaime.

“I told you Sansa was his favourite,” Jaime said with amusement, glancing between his father and his friend. Cait was patting his father’s face with her chubby hands, a huge grin on her face. It made for a very amusing image for Jaime. His father was not even protesting. His favoritism passed down from mother to daughter.

“The only good thing your brother ever did was make that woman fall in love with him.” Jaime rolled his eyes. He was sure Tyrion would consider Sansa’s love the best thing he’d ever done too, though he doubted he would say it was the  _ only _ good thing he’d ever done. Still, Jaime did not argue. That argument was not worth going into. “Perhaps one day my oldest son will marry and provide me with another daughter-in-law that I can be proud of.”

Jaime heard Brienne’s breathing change as she got annoyed. It was sweet that she was protective of him, but Jaime was used to this. “You could just give the estate to Tyrion.”

His father shook his head, tutting with impatience. Jaime often said this. “As much as I would like Sansa to be in charge of the estate, that is not how things work. The sooner you get married and have a child, the sooner I can protect the estate from your wretched nephew.” Jaime rolled his eyes. This argument too was a common one. “Now, I am going to go and find Sansa to give her child back. Come along, Caitriona,” Tywin said to the child who was in his arms and, therefore, of course, went along wherever Tywin went.

Jaime turned to Brienne with a dramatic roll of his eyes. “And that is my father.”

“He’s awful,” Brienne said and Jaime was so surprised by her frankness that a bubble of laughter burst from his mouth. Jaime nodded. “Sorry-”

“No, no, you’re right. He is awful. We were his three disappointing children, a dwarf, a drunk and a disinterested heir. That’s me. I’m the heir. While Sansa is a marvel for being a teacher, I am simply a disappointment because I should be learning how to run the estate for when he dies.” Brienne shook her head. Jaime grinned. “Anyway, enough about my wayward family-”

“Jaime.” Catelyn’s voice arrived before she did and she had a tone of urgency. Jaime and Brienne both turned furrowed brows to her. She gave them a grim smile. “Cersei is here.” Jaime blinked and then blinked again. “Can you-”

Jaime nodded, feeling a lump burn in his throat. “I’ll go now.” He didn’t even look at Brienne before he left to go and sort out his sister, who he had spotted by the door, wearing a fur coat and probably little else. Brienne and Cersei could not exist in the same headspace.

**XXX**

Brienne blinked in surprise as Jaime rushed off to go and sort his sister. Catelyn still stood by their stall, also watching him leave. “Jaime’s sister is difficult,” Catelyn said unnecessarily. Brienne wanted more details than that, though she felt she should wait for Jaime to provide them. “She and Jaime were close and he’s likely the only one who can make her calm down now.” Brienne nodded.

“His father,” Brienne started but cut herself off. Catelyn nodded severely.

“A terrible man. Though he has never been cruel to my Sansa, her husband suffers under his wrath and he is entirely dismissive of all of Jaime’s excellent qualities.”

Brienne was about to ask something else when they were interrupted. Christmas fairs really were not the place to have conversations. “Oh,” Myrcella said upon seeing them. Brienne tried to smile. “Where is my uncle?”

“He’s gone to see to your mother,” Catelyn replied gently. Myrcella shook her golden curls.

“What is  _ she _ doing here?” Catelyn went to speak but Myrcella cut her off. “My mother is disgusting. Let’s be honest, Uncle Jaime isn’t much better.”

“Be quiet, Myrcella,” Catelyn snapped and Myrcella drew back slightly. Her eyes filled with tears. Catelyn continued more gently. “Have some respect for your family.”

Myrcella scoffed. “I’m going to find Uncle Tyrion.”

And, so, she left. Catelyn left soon after, too, leaving Brienne to get rid of most of the rest of the teddies. 

With a sigh, a few hours later as she returned to her classroom, packed up and having got rid of the children, she thought she had been a spectator to a very odd family dynamic today. She had more questions than she knew what to do with.

XXX

She found herself at Jaime’s classroom a while later, not completely sure when she had made the decision to come here. Likely in the staffroom when she had got out a second teabag. She knocked lightly and got a quiet response to enter. Pushing the door open with her elbow, she smiled at the wide open space. “Tea?” she said. Jaime gave her a grateful smile, putting down the books he was tidying. She placed the cup of tea on his desk and he came to join her there, taking his seat and leaning back against the headrest.

“I’m sorry for today,” Jaime said, eyes closed and sighing. Brienne smiled softly though he did not see it and just drank her tea.

“What happened with your sister?” Brienne asked. She had not seen him again after he had gone to deal with her. Jaime chuckled darkly, sitting forward and opening his eyes.

“Today or in the past?” Brienne didn’t say anything, unsure herself of what she wanted to hear. Jaime picked up his cup of tea and brushed his thumb across the stripes. She always made him tea in that mug. Perhaps he had noticed. “Cersei and I thought we were meant for each other when we were children.”

Brienne masked her shock with her cup of tea but no doubt Jaime saw her eyes widen. He shook his head, staring into his mug. “We - Gods - we thought we were two sides of the same soul and that nobody could come between us. Tyrion figured us out, told us what we were doing was disgusting, which it was, and I told Cersei we had to stop but she still believed all the rubbish she’d told me. She came to me, three times before her pride was too much to keep on being rejected. We were eighteen then.

“She married Robert quickly, gave birth to the first baby nine months later. She and Robert never loved each other. Not long after Joffrey came, they were sleeping around. She’s had more affairs than I know about and I know that he has no qualms about where he sticks his cock. They got divorced three years ago, when Joffrey was fifteen. She was broken, had spent too much time in an unhappy marriage with a cruel man, being cruel to him too. The children grew up in this incredibly volatile environment because Robert believed that children in an unhappy marriage was better than children with two separated parents that loved them and could show that love in a safe, gentle way.

“She came to me again, then, begged to be able to stay. The kids and her, they moved into mine. It was a squeeze but Cersei had been desperate and hadn’t wanted to go and live with father. I told her I would stay on the couch but she said that she would. In the middle of the night, she got into bed with me and told me all the rubbish I’d believed when I was young, that it was only the two of us who mattered, that we shouldn’t have to suffer anybody else, that we could be together forever.”

Jaime wiped the tears away from under his eyes and took a sip of his tea. Brienne’s body was completely still though her heart seemed to be beating double time. “Cersei told Joffrey about us and now she says that Joffrey has told Myrcella. That’s why Myrcella is so angry at her, although less so at me, for some reason.” Jaime paused. “After Myrcella was born, Cersei came to me and told me she was miserable and that nobody made her happy like I did. She begged me to look after her, to be with her behind Robert’s back. She kept asking until I snapped and ran away. I went back to uni to train to be a teacher, just to get away from her.”

“I love being a teacher,” Jaime said with an easy smile at her. Brienne blinked rapidly to get rid of the tears which were pricking at the back of her eyes. He put down his mug of tea, though it was only half drunk. “Thank you for being kind, Brienne. You are very kind. I understand now that I’ve ruined this but-”

Brienne shook her head. He had not ruined their friendship. He had been honest when she had not even asked for it. She would not judge him for the mistakes of youth, as distasteful as they were. She gave him half a smile and clinked their mugs together. “I’ll always be your friend, Jaime,” she promised, meeting his eyes. His eyebrows furrowed momentaneously, as though he was confused by what she said. She supposed he had been ready for her to cast him out forever. He meant too much to her to do that.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey, so, I know, my soft Teachers AU got a bit angsty who knew that could happen  
Also, hey, it's not the 13th of December and I'm posting chapter 13
> 
> There is a good reason for this: I have a friend visiting from tomorrow til Monday morning and won't have any time to write or probably even post, so I have written chapter 13 and 14 already and I'm posting them now. Chapter 15 is on its way
> 
> Posting will be regular again from Monday onwards :)
> 
> (ALSO, if you're in the UK, it's not too late to vote if you're registered!! You have until 10pm tonight pls vote xx)


	14. Christmas Play: Teachers AU Part 6

“Good morning,” Jaime called into Brienne’s room. It was before eight o’clock but he had seen her car in the car park and immediately gone to the staffroom to make them both a cup of coffee. Today was an exciting day: the performance of the Christmas play. Before that, though, they had to try and wrestle a class of excited, Christmas-anticipating pupils into maths and English lessons. Unfortunately, teaching could not stop just because it was Christmas.

“Morning,” Brienne called back. Her back was turned to him. She was writing something in her best teacher’s writing on the whiteboard.

“I brought you a coffee,” Jaime said, approaching and placing the black coffee, one sugar, on her desk.

“You’re the best,” she replied and he saw from the side as her face twitched into a smile. “How are you feeling about the play?” she asked, turning from the whiteboard. She had written the day’s objectives and the date, in various different colours. In the top right hand corner, there was a box that said 11 days to Christmas. Jaime smiled.

“Good,” he replied. “I think the kids know their lines well enough and your lot don’t need to do anything except remember what direction to walk in so we should be okay.”

“Let’s hope,” she said, picking up her spotty turquoise mug and bringing the hot liquid to her lips. Jaime sipped his own milky coffee. “It is a lot of pressure. I am glad that Jeyne had planned it all before I arrived.”

“Yes, I’ll be glad to watch someone else struggle with the effort next year,” Jaime commented. Brienne sniffed in laughter.

“Will you not be in year five next year?” she asked curiously. Jaime shook his head.

“Catelyn mentioned moving me to year six.”

“Shit,” Brienne said, making Jaime snort with laughter. He had felt the same when Catelyn had mentioned it to him. “I would love to see that.”

Jaime felt a pang in his heart as he remembered that she would only be here until July. Jeyne would return in September. Perhaps he would have a word with Robb Stark and ensure that Jeyne was pregnant by then so that they could keep Brienne. Even after only nearly three weeks, Jaime was too used to seeing her every day. He wanted to see her everyday for the rest of his life.

Jaime hid his fear of losing her behind his coffee cup. After telling her of his relationship with Cersei, surely she would not just leave his life. Perhaps Jeyne would decide to be a stay at home mum, forever and ever. Jaime knew it was unfair to wish she did not return but Brienne was a wonder, a marvel. The school could not let her leave.

“I should probably return to my classroom,” Jaime said reluctantly, remembering the fun maths activity he needed to lay out. “Making maths fun does not happen on its own.”

“No, it does not,” Brienne said, meeting his eyes and smiling. “I’ll see you at lunchtime, though?” she said and Jaime thought her tone was rather hopeful. He grinned at the thought.

“In the hall, yes. Don’t be late,” he teased her, lifting his mug to her. She smiled.

“Never,” she replied softly. Jaime felt his heart stay behind as he left the classroom.

**XXX**

Brienne was shaking, Jaime noticed. Dressed all in black now, so that they did not distract from the children’s performance, they were sitting on cushions in front of the front row of chairs, where Catelyn sat with a few esteemed guests and the governors, the head of which was Jaime’s fucking father unfortunately. Jaime’s brother also had a seat on the front row, thankfully, because, elsewise, he would not have been able to see at all.

The music began to play and Jaime turned to Brienne with a smile. The children’s voices were loud enough, though not particularly tuneful, as they entered, the year ones in costume, the year fives simply in black clothing. Jaime rubbed his fingers against his palm. Brienne was not the only one who was nervous.

Together, Jaime and Brienne mouthed the lyrics to the song and then sat with the scripts, ready to remind the narrators if they forgot. Only one did, by the halfway song, and Jaime was not surprised. Petey had been a risk for such a long line, but he had been so happy to have it and he had only forgotten the last part.

Jaime felt for Brienne’s hand as one of his shier girls got up to do her solo in the shepherds’ song. Brienne took it and squeezed it. Jaime shuffled slightly closer to her, hoping that none of the governors or guests noticed. The song was done very well and, though her voice shook, Kaete completed her solo excellently. Jaime gave her a thumbs up as she went to take her seat again and Nate came up to deliver his line.

Jaime rubbed his thumb across the back of Brienne’s hand, glancing again at her. She smiled at him, her shoulders rising with happiness. It was going splendidly. Jaime’s heart lifted to see her smile. 

The little shepherds came on and delivered some sheep to the small Mary and Joseph, while some of Jaime’s boys delivered their lines. There was another song to introduce the wise men, who brought presents. The small year ones lifted their presents as the narrator announced which one was which, though Gracie Mitchell, the carrier of gold, did raise hers for myrrh as well, making Brienne inhale sharply. Jaime was sure the audience did not mind.

The final song came around soon enough and Brienne moved her hand. Jaime felt his whole body sag as he thought she was taking their hands apart. Instead, she interlaced them. Their hands fit together so well. They fit together so well. She leaned her head on his shoulder and Jaime thought he might split in two from happiness. How had she only been in his life for three weeks?

She sang along to the final song, as did Jaime. Neither of them had particularly tuneful voices but the song was the sign of their accomplishment, bringing together two classes and putting on an excellent nativity play. Though Jaime had done it with Jeyne every year for the past five years, he thought this year was by far the best they’d done and it had not felt like such a burden.

“Well done,” Brienne whispered and her face was so close that Jaime felt her breath stroke his neck. Jaime closed his eyes to savour the moment. Soon, when the song was over, there would be clapping and flowers and praise - and no Brienne with her head on his shoulder or his hand in hers.

“You too,” Jaime murmured, angling his head so that he was staring at her. If he shifted his head slightly, he’d be able to kiss her. Her lips looked particularly inviting. He thought there might have been gloss on them, perhaps because of the Christmassy spirit. Jaime was telling himself that he could not kiss her and she seemed to be leaning towards him when the music finished and clapping resonated behind them.

Brienne flinched away from him, pulling her hand from his and bringing them together to clap. Jaime closed his eyes to quell the disappointment. He too started to clap and grinned at his children. He was very proud of them. They had worked very hard and done their absolute best.

Catelyn stood and began her speech, thanking the children and the parents and the governors and finally - “and a big special thank you to Mister Lannister and Miss Tarth, who have worked so very hard on this performance with their classes for the past few weeks.” Jaime swallowed as she beckoned them up.

“Come on,” he muttered to Brienne, rising and offering her a hand. One of the office staff had fetched the flowers for both of them, a classic that Jaime prepared for each year, though he was the only one who ever saw them in his house. Irrationally, Jaime wondered if anyone else would see Brienne’s.

They arrived at the front. The audience clapped them and the children clapped them and it was only when one of the mothers wolfwhistled that Jaime realised they were still holding hands. Jaime decided to play up to it, raising their hands together as if in thanks for the applause. Brienne smiled at him and then at the children. Jaime was so happy. He felt as though he were receiving the world cup, rather than just a bunch of flowers.

He turned to Brienne and smiled again. What a team they were.

**XXX**

“Far better than any I’ve done in the past,” Jeyne Stark said to Brienne as the three of them stood together, enjoying a cup of tea and a mince pie. Sansa nodded, humming around her mince pie. Jeyne and her husband Robb had come to the performance, leaving the new baby with one of Catelyn’s other children, Bran, one of the few who had no real connection to the school.

“I suppose when you have such a bond with the other teacher it’s easier,” Sansa said, turning to Brienne, who scowled. “Oh, come on, Brienne,” the year two teacher said with a roll of her eyes. “You and Jaime get on far better than I’ve ever seen him get on with anyone. I think he gets on better with you than he does with Tyrion.”

Brienne pursed her lips and shook her head. “Don’t be silly. We’re just good friends.”

Sansa hummed again and shared a look with Jeyne. “He never held my hand as we got our flowers,” Jeyne commented lightly. Brienne opened her mouth to speak and then closed it again. She was sure he had nearly kissed her earlier, during the final song, but perhaps she was wrong. They were good friends. She never wanted to ruin that.

Tyrion Lannister approached at that moment, diverting Jeyne and Sansa’s attentions. Sansa leaned down to bestow upon him a kiss. “Wonderful performance, Brienne,” Tyrion said with a smile. “My brother is practically aglow with all the praise you have been getting.”

“Yes, I don’t know how I will fill her boots next year,” Jeyne said with a teasing smile.

“Well, I don’t think anyone can fill her boots in Jaime’s eyes. He’s quite enamoured with her.” Brienne sighed. She knew that she and Jaime were close but there was nothing wrong with a man and a woman being friends, no matter the feelings that bubbled in her stomach whenever she was near him. “You were sitting very closely indeed on the floor,” Tyrion commented.

Brienne closed her eyes against the surge of embarrassment. She had been so happy to have put on such a good play that she had shuffled close to Jaime and held his hand for most of the performance. She had hoped it was too dark for anyone to see. Thankfully, before Brienne could finish, Jaime arrived, diverting their attention yet again.

“Have you heard, Miss Tarth?” Jaime said teasingly. “We’re quite the talk of the school.” This was not really news. They had been the talk of the playground for weeks now, since one of Jaime’s children’s mothers had told other parents that they were very flirty when she had come to pick up her child late one evening. Brienne shook her head at him, struggling to conceal her smile upon seeing him. “Even my father had something to say.”

“When doesn’t Father have something to say,” Tyrion grumbled. Jaime chuckled. “We should be going, Sansa. I’m not sure I trust your brother with three children at once and Robb and Jeyne’s first is a right little monster.”

Brienne smiled at the family interaction. Tyrion dodged the swing Jeyne took for his head. Jeyne seemed wonderful. Brienne knew that she was missed by her colleagues, not because they did not like Brienne but because they knew Jeyne better and loved her. She was quite literally one of the family. A twinge of sadness hit Brienne’s chest as she watched Jaime saying goodbye to his brother. She would have to leave one day and she already knew that she wanted to stay forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to have this be slightly more detailed about the play but who cares about the play when we could focus on Jaime and Brienne's relationship?? Part seven of this teachers AU will be out on 16th
> 
> lol originally there were like three teachers AU chapters planned and now there's twelve. Maybe I'll transfer them into one fic Kingslayer-style
> 
> chapter fifteen should be up in about an hour, provided I can write properly


	15. A Festive Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne's roommate is acting rather oddly

"Hey, beautiful," Jaime called through the house. He must have heard the door go. Brienne blinked. When she left the house that morning, the house had been as normal. Now, it was like Disneyland. Christmas at Disneyland. The walls were entirely covered with tinsel or various signs and posters of Christmas. There were some Christmas cards stuck up over the walls that Brienne spotted on her way to where Jaime’s voice came from. Admittedly, there were not many cards. Jaime and Brienne didn’t have a huge quantity of friends.

“You expecting someone else?” Brienne asked half-seriously in response to the nickname he had greeted her with when she entered. She found him kneeling by a Christmas tree in the living room of their house. Jaime grinned at her and stood, holding his hands out as though to say ‘look what I did!’. “It’s very sparkly,” Brienne said, her lips twitching. This room was definitely the most Christmassy. There were angels and candles and snowflakes and more covering every surface. Brienne let out a bark of laughter as she approached the back window, which looked out onto their slim garden. “Is that a set of light up reindeer?”

“Yep,” Jaime said. Brienne was surprised by how close to her he was.

“Jaime,” she admonished. “You must have spent so much on all this.”

Jaime nodded eagerly as though what she was saying was a good thing and she was not commenting on the excess. “I want this to be the best Christmas ever!” Brienne did allow him a smile at that.

“It will be,” Brienne said. “This is the first time we’ve celebrated it.”

Jaime groaned. “Yes, but I want this to be the best Christmas even compared to our future Christmasses.”

“Our future Christmasses,” Brienne repeated, looking about the room. Was this going to become a yearly thing.

“Yes,” Jaime enunciated. “Now, come on, I tried to make a gingerbread house but gave up and just bought one. Do you want to decorate it with me?”

He led her by hand into the kitchen. She was fairly impressed by how clean it was, despite the lingering smell of burning, mixed with ginger. Jaime nodded at a tray on the hob, covered in burnt biscuits shaped like pieces of a house. Brienne chuckled. He had tried. It was very sweet.

The gingerbread house that Jaime had bought was disassembled but the gingerbread looked - and smelled - good. Jaime gave Brienne one of the end pieces and commanded her to decorate it.

Brienne chose blue and white icing while Jaime went with red and pink, grinning at her. He was very attractive and very silly. “What happened to cause all of this, Jaime?” Brienne asked, still rather bewildered as she began to ice a window onto the gingerbread house.

Jaime shrugged, not meeting her eyes. “I just thought it was sad that we didn’t ever celebrate Christmas when there is so much fun to be had. I love our Christmas day of watching films but we essentially do the same thing every weekend. I thought it was time that we started doing things properly. And we have nearly two weeks until Christmas, plenty of time to get you into a Christmassy spirit.”

Brienne breathed out a laugh. “I think living in this place would get anyone into a Christmassy spirit.” Jaime grinned.

“Precisely.” 

Brienne had a sudden thought. “Does this madness extend to my bedroom?” Jaime nodded, stifling a smile with a bitten lip.

“Don’t worry,” Jaime said with a smirk, “I didn’t replace your vibrator with a Christmas-themed one.” Brienne felt heat rush to her face. She had not known that Jaime knew about  _ that _ . “I did put some sparkly lube in your top drawer for next time you need to use it though,” he added with a wink.

Brienne threw the white icing tube at him and he snickered, chucking it under arm back to her. She caught it and shot a glare at him, wishing she was quick enough to think of a comeback good enough to make him blush too. “You can keep it for yourself.”

Jaime shook his head. “No need. I’ve got some that tastes of Christmas pudding.”

Brienne furrowed her brow. “Why would it need to taste-  _ oh _ !” Brienne realised with another rush of heat exactly what flavoured lube would be good for. Jaime snickered at her and Brienne turned her eyes to her slab of gingerbread, wishing she weren’t so innocent. Perhaps then Jaime would look at her. What sort of a twenty-six year old didn’t know about flavoured lube?

They sat in silence for a while. They were good at silence. It had become comfortable very quickly after Jaime had moved in, when movie nights became frequent and a needed retreat from their jobs.

“Do you want to watch a Christmas film tonight?” Jaime asked. Brienne thought he sounded as though he was trying to be casual. She twitched her brow as her lips quirked upwards. He kept his eyes on his end of the gingerbread house.

“Sounds good. Which one were you thinking?” Brienne asked. Jaime’s head snapped up.

“Well, I thought we could watch a different one every day until Christmas,” he said in a rush. Brienne laughed, a little shocked by the sudden loss of casualness. “I found this thing on Pinterest that has a good countdown to Christmas film list.”

Brienne shook her head slightly. “You have Pinterest?”

Jaime scoffed. “Where else do you think I got all of these ideas?” he said, gesturing to their absurdly decorated kitchen. Brienne’s eyes were drawn to the row of candy canes on their kitchen windowsill, dotted in between the herbs. She loved the idea of Jaime going on Pinterest while he was at IKEA buying all of this. Brienne struggled to contain her giggles.

“What did it say we should watch first, then?” Brienne asked.

Jaime grinned. “Home alone.” Brienne could not complain at that.

**XXX**

“Come on, Lannister,” Brienne called up the stairs. “I want to eat this gingerbread house before it falls apart.” She heard a dramatic gasp from upstairs and Jaime appeared at the top of the stairs, wearing the most ridiculous pair of pyjamas she had ever seen.

“We are  _ not _ eating our gingerbread house.”

“What are you wearing?” Brienne asked, ignoring that absurd statement for a moment. Jaime glanced down at his pyjamas. He reached the end of the stairs, leaning on the bannister, propping his beautiful face up on the final pole.

“These were the best Christmas pyjamas to be found in the shopping centre.”

Brienne blinked. “The  _ best _ ?” Surely he meant the worst. The legs were legging-like, decorated like candy canes and then the top was almost like a tunic with a cartoon image of Santa in the middle and ‘SANTA’ written underneath. “You look ridiculous.”

Jaime shook his head and passed her a package she had not noticed him holding behind his back. He shook from excitement. Brienne undid the ribbon from the package, watching him warily. She found a pair of pyjamas, similar to his, inside, though the legs were green and white and the top read ‘Santa’s favourite ho’ with what could only be described as a slutty elf above it.

“Jaime!” Brienne cried, hitting him over the head with the pyjamas. “I am not wearing these.”

Jaime groaned. “Why not? Come on, it’s only me who is going to see them and it’s funny and look-” he pulled the sleeve from the top and rolled it back to show her the inside, which was fluffy and green “-why would you not want to sleep in that?”

Brienne admitted that that was a good reason to put those on. She did love cozy pyjamas. “Okay,” she said. “Give me two minutes.”

Five minutes later, Brienne returned to the living room, feeling ridiculous in matching pyjamas. Jaime had set up the movie and was sitting on the sofa with a novelty blanket featuring sprouts and stuffing with faces. Brienne snickered, drawing Jaime’s attention.

“Oh, yes, you look wonderful,” he teased. Brienne rolled her eyes and joined him on the sofa, curling herself under the blanket. Jaime drew her close and she leaned her head on his shoulder. Movie nights were her favourite nights. “You are my favourite hoe,” Jaime said very seriously. Brienne felt that the punch she gave him in the stomach was well-deserved.

She reached across him for the remote to start the movie. Jaime wrapped an arm around her. Brienne let out a sigh. Lying here, in his arms, wearing matching couples’ pyjamas, it was almost as though they were together. They shared a house, shared a life, shared everything except a bed really. 

And it was days and nights like this that Brienne wished so much that they could share that too. 

“You okay?” Jaime whispered. Brienne nodded, blinking and looking up at him. He was so beautiful. They just didn’t fit together, the most beautiful man on the continent and  _ her _ .

Jaime would be a wonderful boyfriend. All of this, the decorations, trying to make gingerbread, using Pinterest to figure it out, all for a _friend_. It was all so kind. He was so thoughtful. He would make someone the most perfect boyfriend.

Snuggled into his chest, Brienne’s heart broke yet again that it wasn’t going to be her. Sighing again, Brienne decided to just focus on the film, thankful it wasn’t yet another love film. Every time they sat down to watch a film together, Jaime wanted to watch a romance. It was like he wanted her to feel shit all the time. He would even say some of the corny lines to her sometimes. Maybe one day Brienne would have to change the living arrangements. It was all so painful.

For now though, Brienne would take what she could get. And, well, if that was snuggling with Jaime on the sofa watching the best Christmas film there was, she would take it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jaime's side of this is prompt for day 23!
> 
> Like I said on the last prompt, this is all from me until Monday
> 
> (in the meantime, check out my other fics - Changing Priorities, Kingslayer and Sunburst, as well as the various ficlets I have going on)
> 
> All my love


	16. Christmas Film: Teachers AU Part 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yet again, Jaime Lannister finds a reason for year one and year five to spend time together. This time, he has big plans.

“And, finally,” Catelyn said, her eyes scanning the room. Jaime nearly smiled but did not. This staff meeting had seemed to go on for hours and hours, discussing new marking techniques and the work being done on the hall over the holidays and the Christmas do and now, finally, the word finally had been uttered. “I’ve been asked if we can watch any films this week with the children. My answer is this: not in the morning and only one this week and one next week. I would suggest doing it towards the end of the week but that is completely at your discretion. However, please remember that I expect all Maths and English lessons to be curriculum-focussed and taught as thoroughly as they would be in September.”

Jaime nodded. This was standard. He had been expecting this since last week and, though he had not mentioned it to Brienne yet, he wanted year five to join year one. He was sure they could find a film that both classes would enjoy, despite the age difference.

“You are dismissed,” Catelyn said with a nod. Jaime stood and felt Brienne stand next to him. They always sat together at staff meetings. Jaime liked it, made him feel like they were a team. Sansa and Margaery sat next to each other, too, and they were best friends. Brienne was Jaime’s best friend. There was no one else he’d ever felt like this about.

Excitement bubbled in Jaime’s chest. The other teachers filed out, chatting about this and that and Christmas films and the Christmas do and the holidays (they were so close and everyone was so tired and ready for a two week break). Jaime followed Brienne, literally as well as often figuratively, turning right from the staffroom to head to the infants’ classroom, rather than left towards the juniors’.

“Can I help you?” Brienne said, a look of amusement on her face at him following her. Jaime smiled and nodded.

“When do you want to watch a film?” he asked pleasantly, before closing his eyes. He had so many questions to ask to sort this out and he had started with the wrong one. Brienne furrowed her eyebrows at him. Jaime chuckled slightly, trying to play off his gaff. “I mean, if you are agreeable to year five joining year one to watch a film, when would you be able to do that?”

It was awkwardly said but Jaime did not think Brienne would judge him. She was awkward too, sometimes, and he found it endearing. He desperately hoped that she did too. Her lips were twitching, so Jaime thought he might have been right. “Are year five free Friday afternoon?” she asked as they reached her classroom. Jaime nodded eagerly as she opened the door.

“Year five are free whenever year one would like them.” Jaime was also free whenever Brienne would like him but saying that would have been a bit obvious. Perhaps she would understand it from what he said and then she would not be so surprised when he asked her out. Brienne smiled at him, though it didn’t quite reach her splendid eyes. “Fab,” Jaime said with a wink. “I’ll see you then.”

Jaime turned to walk down the corridor and realised that he would see her before that. He glanced back to see if she was still there but she had entered her classroom. Jaime’s heart wrenched a little bit. He wanted everything to be perfect. He wanted her to know he wanted to be around her, to talk to her, to tease her and make her blush all the time.

All the time.

Jaime fiddled with his teacher’s badge that hung around his neck, lining it up perfectly with his blue tie. Friday wasn’t so far away. He could wait until then to ask her out. It would be dark in the classroom, the children would be watching a Christmas film, and Jaime would have her full attention.

XXX

“No, Gracie, you have to sit on the floor,” Brienne sighed.

“That isn’t fair,” Gracie Mitchell said, stomping her foot.

Brienne put on her best teacher’s face, eyebrow quirked upwards and eyes severe. Gracie’s scowl remained on her little face. “Gracie, you have five seconds to be sat down with your arms folded and no scowl on your face before I put your name on a white cloud,” Brienne said, pointing to the reward-punishment system they had that was based on weather - when a child was naughty, they got moved to a white cloud, then a grey cloud then a black one; when a child was good, they moved onto the sun and then to the rainbow. There were various punishments and rewards assigned to each weather symbol and Brienne’s year ones mostly lived in fear of being put on a cloud.

The five seconds was over and Gracie had slumped to the ground beside her best friend Aliyah. Her scowl remained but Brienne decided she couldn’t really punish the girl for not wanting to sit on the floor. It wasn’t her fault that Brienne and Jaime wanted to spend all their time together so were merging their classes once again to watch the Polar Express. Year five got the chairs, obviously. But it wasn’t as if year one ever sat on them except when doing activities anyway. Gracie Mitchell just liked to make a fuss over nothing. Brienne imagined she was going to be a terror as a teenager.

Year five arrived a few moments later, when Brienne had tasked Podrick with setting up the film while she passed out the capri-suns and biscuits that ‘Father Christmas’ had brought in for the occasion. She gave year five one of each as they came in too and they took their seats raucously, drawing the year one children’s attention and excitement.

Brienne met eyes with Jaime, passing him a capri-sun too. His lips twitched and Brienne grinned. Jaime got the class under control very aptly and then Pia, Jaime’s assistant, turned the lights off. The children’s whispers died down slowly, to be replaced by the opening music to the Polar Express, as Podrick pressed play.

Sighing slightly, Brienne sat herself down on the empty table by the craft corner, where she had placed the children’s literacy books at lunchtime, ready for her to get through while the film was on. As much as she wanted to just chat with Jaime, Brienne knew that she would hate herself if she did not make a start on marking the books before this evening. She had so many more things to do.

Brienne did leave the chair open next to her, pulled out so that it would invite Jaime to sit down. If he wanted to. Brienne pulled on the back of her hair as she looked over the first book. There was just enough light from the film being played on the whiteboard to see the children’s work. She had barely read a sentence when she looked up. She didn’t need Jaime to sit next to her. He obviously did not have to. She was not his priority. He-

He was not in the room.

Brienne spied Pia and Podrick chatting in the role play area, which Brienne thought they might have been tidying up. They were very good assistants, always willing to put up with Brienne and Jaime’s antics. Brienne got on very well with Podrick and he had never made any comments about Brienne and Jaime’s fondness for each other. Brienne knew that Pia did make comments or gave Jaime looks but Jaime found it funny.

He found all of the gossip funny. Brienne thought it was mildly amusing but she knew what the mums on the playground could see: an ugly woman shooting too high. And they were right. Jaime might flirt with her but nothing more had happened. Nothing real had happened. 

And, now, even though it had been his idea to merge their classes to watch a film, he had disappeared out of the classroom, leaving Brienne with the children, without even a word of warning to watch his class. Brienne exhaled half-angrily, half-disappointedly as she flipped open the next book, pulling back the front page to see who it belonged to.

Brienne had never been desperate for love, not really. The idea was pleasant but she had never found anybody worth her time, nor anybody who wanted her. There had been Renly, when she was in high school and she had thought that he was her true love, despite his homosexuality. She’d thought she would spend her whole life pining for him. She had not. In fact, when she had been at his wedding to Loras a few years ago, she had not even felt a pang in her heart, just happiness.

After Renly, there was the whole bet situation and Brienne had been conned out of her virginity, one drunken night at university. It had not been enjoyable. After that, she’d been with Ron Connington for a few months but had caught him with another woman. Then, Hyle, one of the friends of the man who had taken her virginity, had been with her for nearly a full year. They’d been quite compatible in bed. It had been the first time Brienne had enjoyed sex. And then he’d proposed, in front of her father, and Brienne had said no. He just hadn’t been right. It had not been love, so what was the point?

“You look deep in thought.”

Jaime’s whisper sent shivers down Brienne’s spine and also shook her from her thoughts. He took the seat next to her. Brienne felt her stomach squirm. He was back. She was an overthinker. “Cup of tea?” he whispered, sliding her a mug. Brienne gave it a blank stare. “Sorry, I know it’s my mug but I accidentally put sugar in the wrong one.”

Brienne sniffed out a laugh, picking up Jaime’s mug and bringing it to her lips. She tried not to think about his lips having been on it before hers, even though it had obviously been washed since then. She felt like such a highschooler. This was what she had been like over Renly.

She couldn’t believe she’d thought that he’d abandoned her. The thought of him sitting beside her was as warming as the cup of tea in her hands. “Literacy?” Jaime questioned. His whispers were caressing her neck. It was giving her goosebumps. Brienne nodded a bit shakily. “Do you want some help?”

Brienne tried not to smile as she accepted his help. He was so generous, so good. Brienne passed him the smiley face stamp and asked him to mark that morning’s spelling tests, giving him the sheet with the right answers on. He grinned at her and was away.

By the time the hot chocolate song was playing, they were finished with the books. Brienne wrote a probing question in Aliyah Kelly’s book and drew a smiley face before swinging it closed unceremoniously. Jaime laughed at her. Brienne met his eyes and grinned. His eyes were sparkling. They were a pretty colour although Brienne could not see them truly in the dark.

“What other work have you got to do?” Jaime asked, his mouth near her ear. Brienne felt her whole body sigh towards him. Thankfully, her mouth did not embarrass her by letting out the breathy sigh her body seemed to want to. Brienne worried her lip. She did have a lot of work to do but Jaime had not brought his laptop. And, anyway, it was nearly Christmas break. What else was a primary school teacher with no family going to do?

Brienne shook her head slightly and Jaime gave her a wry grin, as though he too was ignoring all of his work to spend time with her. Brienne felt as though she might need to lay her hand on her stomach to stop the storm of butterflies that had arrived there. It was becoming a colony that had taken over the day that Brienne had met Jaime.

“Have you watched the film before?” Jaime asked, nodding at the Polar Express. Brienne nodded.

“Of course. I’m a primary school teacher.” Jaime snorted lightly and Brienne felt the butterflies fly up to spin her heart around with happiness. She wanted to tell herself to stop being ridiculous but she knew she wouldn’t listen. Jaime Lannister had a power over her that her body was very fond of. “When did I stop believing?”

Jaime gave her a funny look but she nodded at the screen, which was showing the Polar Express reaching the North Pole. “Oh, in Father Christmas?” Brienne nodded but pressed her finger to her lips, looking around them. She did not want any of her children to go home and tell their parents that their teacher had told them that Father Christmas wasn’t real. Jaime’s face twitched but then evened out. “Cersei told me.”

“She told you?” Brienne had a feeling she wasn’t going to like this story. Children were supposed to figure it out themselves. Being told while you still believed was cruel.

Jaime nodded, his throat bobbing as he swallowed. “She figured it out and then when I talked about the presents he was going to bring us, she wanted to show off her superior knowledge, show off that she was older and cleverer than me.”

Brienne felt around for his hand under the table and took it, interlacing their fingers like they had at the play. Jaime smiled at her, his eyes darting from hers to their hands and then back again. Brienne did not want to let go. And Jaime did not seem to want to either. Surely, if he was uncomfortable, he would have let go by now.

Nerves blossomed in Brienne’s stomach when she saw him look away and clear his throat. Was he going to tell her that their friendship was weird and too close? She knew he didn’t have a girlfriend but he might have still found their touching inappropriate. It probably was for the workplace.

Jaime glanced back over at her and found her staring at him. Embarrassed, Brienne ducked her head away and looked back at the film. She wished she hadn’t seen it before so that she could pretend to be interested more easily but she hated watching films she’d seen before, especially when they were children’s films.

Brienne jerked when Jaime pressed their palms together. She looked up and found him looking at her. She felt her heart beat faster. “Brienne,” he said before clearing his throat again. Brienne furrowed her brow. He rarely called her Brienne when in the presence of children. “I was just thinking that we should, erm-” He scratched the back of his head with his free hand. Brienne felt a bit sick. What if he didn’t want to be friends anymore? Or maybe he didn’t want their classes to spend so much time together. Brienne’s leg shook under the table. “We should go out,” he said finally.

Brienne’s lips parted. “We should go out?” she repeated. Her mind was a blur. She couldn’t pick out one thought from another.

Jaime nodded, his lips moving into a smile. “Yes, you and me. We should go out, just you and me, and get a drink or maybe food or watch a film or-”

“Like a date?” Brienne interrupted and then regretted it. Jaime’s smile spread further and he nodded in an eager manner.

“Exactly like a date.” He was brushing his thumb against the back of her hand. Brienne stared at their hands, feeling something close to euphoria.

“Okay,” she agreed with a nod. She hoped the smile that was growing on her face spoke to her happiness more than her words did. Jaime grinned and squeezed their hands together. Brienne looked down at them and then back up at him.

Jaime Lannister had just asked her on a date. Jaime Lannister.

Brienne rubbed her thumb against the nail of his thumb. She never wanted to let go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey I'm back!
> 
> tomorrow is potentially an AU where Jaime is a writer and Brienne is a bodyguard and they meet in a coffee shop but I haven't written it yet and I'm not entirely sure how I am going to so possibly not
> 
> We will see


	17. Don't Cry Over Spilled Coffee

Brienne pressed the pad of each finger to the pad of her thumb over and over again as she waited for her coffee, occasionally glancing at the clock to check the time. This was not her usual coffee shop but the underground strikes meant that one was opening later for the next few weeks and Brienne could not be late for work.

It was not that her boss was cruel. She was not, whatsoever, and she would probably understand if Brienne was late. However, Brienne’s job was too important to be late for. She was queensguard to Queen Sansa and, thus, leaving her queen alone was unconscionable. Brienne did not know who had done the shift before her, though she had written the timetables as Lady Commander, but she hoped they were willing to stay a few extra moments so that Brienne could have a coffee that would get her through the morning of meetings.

“Gingerbread latte - Brienne!” the barista shouted. Brienne let out a sigh. Finally. She grabbed the drink, in her eco-friendly reusable cup, and the lid that had been placed next to it. She stopped at the condiment table swiftly. She wanted chocolate sprinkles on her coffee and she could be quick about it.

Just as Brienne picked up the sprinkle shaker and balanced her latte on the black surface by the sugar pot, she felt something shove into her, making her push the side of the coffee cup with the sprinkle shaker and pushing the coffee over. Brienne watched as it fell, too concerned with flicking her foot back to kick whatever had done that.

“Ow!” a man complained. Brienne turned, eyes narrowed and found a man, clinging to his shin. She could just see the top of his head as he rubbed his leg. He was golden blonde. His clothes were quite fine, though nothing on what Queen Sansa and some of her courtiers wore. “What was that for?” the man demanded, angling his head upwards.

Brienne looked between the man and her latte that was now dripping down the back of the condiment table. She scoffed in incredulity. “You knocked over my coffee!”

The man stood at his full height. His eyes glinted green at her, narrowing. “Technically, you knocked over the coffee but I knocked you. And none of that means that you needed to kick my shin!”

Brienne crossed her arms over her chest. She disagreed. She had been waiting for ages for that coffee. She glanced at the clock above the till. “Great,” she sighed. She had ten minutes to walk to the Red Keep. She should probably leave.

“No, wait,” the coffee-spiller said, putting his hand on her arm as she turned to pick up her reusable coffee cup and put it in her bag, despite its stickiness. At least everything in her bag would smell of ginger. “Let me buy you a new one.”

Brienne shook her head. “I have to go to work.”

The man actually had the decency to look a little guilty. “I’m sorry for knocking over your coffee. I didn’t realise there was anyone behind me and I just stepped back and- agh, let me buy you a coffee tomorrow,” he practically begged. Brienne squinted at him. What sort of person cared this much about a coffee? She shrugged.

“Fine.” He did owe her a coffee. “What time?”

“Same time.”

Brienne nodded and pulled her bag tighter on her shoulder. “I will see you then, then.”

With that, she strode out of the cafe and turned left, heading to the Red Keep and Queen Sansa, no coffee in hand to prepare her for the boring meetings she would have to guard today.

XXX

The second Brienne arrived in the coffee shop the next day, the man approached her, giving her an easy smile. Brienne had not noticed how symmetrical his face was the day before but it was a very pleasing face. Briefly she wondered if he too bought coffee every morning before work. She wondered what he did.

“Gingerbread latte?” the man asked. Brienne inclined her head once. He gave her an apologetic smile before ordering from the barista, who he called by name. Definitely a regular then. The barista offered to bring it over and Brienne fumbled to quickly give him her reusable cup before he wasted a paper one. He smiled at her and the coffee-spiller gestured to his table.

Brienne felt a twinge of irritation. She did not want to sit with this man. He may have bought her a coffee but it was only what he had wasted yesterday. Brienne glanced at the clock. “I have to leave in eight minutes.”

Coffee-spiller’s lips twitched. “Precise.” Brienne could have been more precise. She scowled at him. “I’m Jaime by the way.”

“Brienne,” she replied reluctantly. It would have been rude not to give him her name. “Why are you in here?” she asked, clocking the laptop and notebook on the table - and the coffee mug. At least he didn’t waste paper cups either.

Jaime smiled at her. He had a very easy smile, as though it barely took any effort. Smiling took effort for Brienne but that was likely because there was little happiness away from Queen Sansa. Thus, fewer smiles away from her. Queen Sansa was Brienne’s life. “I’m a writer.”

Brienne narrowed her eyes. Was he a real writer? She imagined there were lots of ‘writers’ sitting in coffee shops not truly writing. Perhaps Jaime was one of them. Or maybe - Queen Sansa read a lot. She particularly liked historical romance novels. There was one author she read a lot.

“Are you Jaime Casterly?” Brienne blurted. Jaime smirked at her and Brienne wanted to slap it off his face.

“I am,” he replied quietly. Brienne ducked her head. She hoped she hadn’t just attracted lots of people to him. He was quite a famous author.

The barista came over with Brienne’s coffee. She looked mournfully at the chocolate sprinkles.It would probably be rude to leave the table to put them on her coffee. Perhaps tomorrow. She turned back to Jaime. “I know someone who is a big fan of your books,” Brienne commented, bringing her coffee to her lips.

Jaime narrowed his eyes, his pretty, pouty lips twitching. “Is it you?” he asked cheekily. Brienne rolled her eyes. This man was arrogance to the extreme.

“No,” she said, thinking of Queen Sansa sitting on her throne and reading the latest Blue Knight novel. “I have honestly never read one.”

“Oh,” he said and she thought he might have been a bit disappointed. Rolling her shoulders, Brienne looked at the clock again. Three more minutes. “What do you do?” he asked more brightly.

Brienne smiled at the thought. “I’m a queensguard.”

Jaime’s mouth dropped. “With Queen Sansa? You’re a queensguard for Queen Sansa?”

Brienne’s lips stretched toothlessly into a smile. “Yes, she is the only queen around here.”

Jaime was still staring at her, utterly flabbergasted. Brienne supposed that he would be interested. If you write a series of books about knights, you’re probably interested in the monarchy. “Oh my gods, is it the queen? Is it the queen that is a fan of my books?” he asked and his excitement was so cute and eager that Brienne nodded. Jaime seemed to be breathing very quickly.

“She read one once on her throne,” Brienne added. Her smile was a grin now and she was enjoying making her coffee-spiller react the way she was. Sipping her latte, Brienne watched as he glanced between her and his laptop.

“I can’t believe this. Queen Sansa of the Seven bloody Kingdoms likes my books.”

Brienne looked at the clock again. Two more minutes. She wished she had arrived earlier. She was quite enjoying this conversation now. “What do you do as a queensguard?” Jaime asked eagerly. Then, he gasped, “Are you a knight?”

“Of course I’m a knight,” she said with a purse of her lips. “You have to be a knight to be a queensguard.”

“This is so cool,” Jaime declared. It was possibly the first time Brienne had even been called cool. His job was certainly cooler than hers. He got to spend all day researching knights and tourneys and swords. “What are you doing today?”

Brienne opened her mouth to speak but, out of the corner of her eye, she saw that it was ten to nine. Stifling a sigh, Brienne said, “I’m sorry. I have to go.” She picked up her coffee and slung her bag over her shoulder, feeling like Cinderella leaving the ball. Jaime’s lips were parted, she noticed, and his eyes were dulled of their excited sparkle.

He caught her wrist in his hand as she walked past him. She turned back, wanting to tell him to take his hand off her but getting caught by the intensity in his eyes. “Come back tomorrow?” he asked hopefully. Brienne barely nodded before pulling away and escaping the coffee shop.

XXX

There was a gingerbread latte waiting for Brienne when she arrived on the third day. There were even chocolate sprinkles on top. He had even had it put in a reusable cup. “I have my own cup,” was the first thing Brienne said. Jaime grinned up at her, taking his fingers from the keyboard and picking up his mug of coffee. Idly, Brienne considered what he likely drank.

“That’s mine,” Jaime said, nodding at the cup. Brienne sat down. She had twelve minutes until she had to leave. Brienne furrowed her brow at the cup. It was red and gold, far gaudier than her simple blue one. “This way, you have to come back tomorrow too, to give me my cup back.”

It was quite a clever ploy, Brienne considered. She just did not understand why he wanted her to come back at all. He was the one that was interesting in this equation. Perhaps he just wanted to hear about Queen Sansa. Most people did.

“What are you writing?” Brienne asked lightly, bringing the coffee to her lips. It was the perfect temperature and the perfect level of gingeryness. Exactly what she needed. 

“The next Blue Knight book,” Jaime said. Brienne smiled. She did love the Blue Knight. There was a portrait of her in the Knights’ Gallery in the Red Keep. It made Brienne smile every time she saw it. She, like Brienne, was from Tarth and she had been the very first female knight.

“Is it a love story?” Brienne asked, crumpling her nose. The love story between the Blue Knight and Goldenhand the Just was legendary and most novels centred on that rather than all the good that the Blue Knight had done.

Jaime nodded. “It is a bit. Goldenhand was an important part of the Blue Knight’s life. He is just a side character, though. The Blue Knight did too much good to be relegated as Goldenhand’s paramour. You really should read my books.”

Brienne chuckled. Perhaps she should. That did sound more to her taste than the bodice rippers that usually told the Blue Knight’s story. “There is a portrait of the Blue Knight in the Knights’ Gallery at the Red Keep,” she told Jaime, unsure why she wanted the conversation to go on anymore. She usually wanted conversations with anyone except Queen Sansa and Princess Arya to end pretty quickly. This one, though, she would be happy to allow to go on for a little while longer at least.

“Is she wearing the blue armour with the lions at the waist?”

Brienne nodded. He clearly knew his stuff. She bit her lip and leaned forward, sipping at her coffee as she did. “That blue armour is in Evenfall Hall on Tarth,” she whispered. Jaime’s eyebrows practically flew off his face.

“How do you know that? Why isn’t that public knowledge? I tried for years to track down that armour so that I could write it more accurately and failed over and over.”

Brienne’s lips twitched. She shrugged. She was sure he did not need to know that her family owned Evenfall Hall and the Blue Knight had lived there once, before she had married Goldenhand and lived as an itinerant knight. The next claimant to Tarth had been a Lannister, likely using their ridiculous amount of power to steal it. There were theories to say that Goldenhand had been a Lannister, brother to his infamous lover, the Queen, and, therefore, the Lannister who claimed Tarth was the child of the Blue Knight and Goldenhand. If that were true, Brienne was her descendant. Unfortunately, it had been 600 years and records were just too blurry.

“I’d love to see it,” Jaime said wistfully. Brienne’s stupid imagination took her there, to showing Jaime the Blue Knight’s armour in her family home. He would write about it and get excited like he had yesterday and put his calloused hand on her wrist again- “Have you seen Goldenhand’s hand?” Brienne shook her head, watching him grin. “I have,” he said confessionally. Brienne was surprised. Supposedly, Goldenhand’s golden hand had disappeared when he had taken down his ex-lover, the Queen, to put the Queen of the North on the throne of all Seven Kingdoms.

“Where is it?” Brienne asked, guessing it was a fake.

“Casterly Rock,” Jaime replied. Brienne blinked in surprise. Casterly Rock had been the seat of the Lannisters, every fool knew that. In fact, it was still the seat of the Lannisters. “It’s my family’s ancestral home. I use Casterly instead of Lannister for my writing because the name Lannister still has rather funny connotations about debts and power and general cuntish behaviour.”

Brienne breathed out a shocked laugh, glancing up at the clock. “Fuck,” she muttered, grabbing her coffee mug and standing up. “I have to go. I’m sorry. I’m going to be late. Tomorrow?” she asked hurriedly. Jaime nodded eagerly.

Brienne rushed out of the shop, surprised by the information that twelve minutes had given her. Jaime Lannister. It was a very nice name, felt nice on her lips as she mouthed it. She wondered how much lineage he shared with Goldenhand or if it was blurry like Brienne’s with the Blue Knight. But the possibilities were whirring in Brienne’s mind: if Jaime was Goldenhand’s descendant and Brienne was the Blue Knight’s… 

Shaking herself of such romantic notions, Brienne rushed to the Red Keep. She only had seven minutes.

XXX

It was Brienne’s day off. She had two days off a week and usually used them to catch up on sleep, exercise and TV. Today, she was at the coffee shop at ten-to-nine like usual, not in her uniform, and clutching Jaime’s first book, which she had devoured the night before. She rushed into the seat opposite Jaime. He grinned at her and she handed him his coffee cup back, washed and dried the evening before.

“I read your book last night,” she said, waving the book at him.

He raised his eyebrows. “The whole book?” he asked. She nodded with a smile. She had read the book and loved it, loved every second and every word and now she needed the next one.

“It was amazing,” Brienne said, hugging the book to her. Jaime chuckled.

“Do you want me to sign it?” he asked with a smirk. She rolled her eyes and made a movement as though to throw the book at him. “You should go and buy your coffee before you have to leave. I was going to buy you one but you had my reusable cup and-”

“I don’t have to go to work today,” Brienne said quickly. Jaime furrowed his brow at her.

“You don’t?” he said and he looked very confused. Brienne thought perhaps she should not have told him. She didn’t want him to think about the fact that she had come all the way here on her day off just to see him. She really did not want him to be uncomfortable because she was eager to spend time with him.

He did not look uncomfortable. On the contrary, he looked rather pleased. Brienne shared his smile. “I’m going to go and buy the next book at the shop across the way, okay?” Brienne said and Jaime nodded, his eyes wide but a happy grin at his lips, showing off his perfectly straight teeth. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

When Brienne returned, there was a gingerbread latte in a mug waiting for her, sitting innocently on her side of the table by the window, covered in chocolate sprinkles.

Brienne only realises at twelve o’clock that Jaime has been watching her reactions since she started reading the second book between his writing of the fifth. Goldenhand had yet to make an appearance in the one in her hands. Brienne had only just met Lady Cat, Queen Sansa’s ancestor, almost halfway through the second book.

“Stop,” Brienne said, peeking her eyes over the top of her book. Jaime grinned slightly sheepishly at being caught watching her.

“What do you want me to do?” Jaime teased. “You’re captivating.”

Brienne scoffed, her cheeks warming, and Jaime smirked. “Do some writing.” He saluted her. “Piss off.”

XXX

A week later, Brienne arrived in the coffee shop as she had every day since she had met him. She found him sitting in their window seat again and felt her heart race as she approached. There was a gingerbread latte waiting for her. He knew this was her day off, clearly, as he had had it made in a mug for her. There were chocolate and cinnamon sprinkles on top, something Jaime had suggested a few days prior.

“What is going to happen in the next book?” were the first words to fall out of Brienne’s mouth as she sat down in the armchair ungracefully. She picked up the coffee mug and sighed over the aroma. Jaime watched her with amusement. Brienne smiled at him. She liked meeting him everyday.

“That’s top secret I’m afraid,” Jaime said, tapping his nose twice. Brienne pouted ever-so-slightly.

“Please tell me,” she groaned. “I could be in bed right now but I’m here with you instead.” Jaime grinned at her, like he always did when she complained about meeting him so early but never came any later.

“Perhaps we should meet in bed instead,” Jaime said in a casual voice as though he was not suggesting being in bed with her. Brienne’s face flamed, remembering all the times she had considered that possibility in the last week. Jaime smirked. “Or perhaps we should just go out for dinner and I can tell you what happens in the next book.”

Even without the possibility of knowing what was going to happen in the next book, dinner with Jaime was a delightful prospect. He was looking at her with hope in his eyes too. Brienne grinned and said, “what are you doing for lunch?”

They ended up in the restaurant at half-eleven, not able to wait any longer. Brienne had sat and started to read one of Jaime’s Sword of the Morning books while he wrote until lunchtime. But, finally, Jaime had declared he could wait no longer.

At the restaurant, after ordering, Jaime said, “so are you just here for the details of the next book?” This was said with such intense undertones that Brienne blushed and looked down. She wondered how many girls he said these sorts of things to. She hoped none. She hoped it was just her.

“No,” Brienne replied, meeting his eyes. He grinned at her and reached across the table to take her hand. His hand had callouses that sent shivers along Brienne’s arm. She watched as his tongue darted out to lick his bottom lip.

By the time the food arrived, Brienne was wondering if going to the bathroom and getting some frustration out of the way would be possible. She’d read his books, had read the way he imagined Goldenhand and the Blue Knight getting it on. He was a creative. Brienne’s mind clearly believed him to be even more so.

And he was staring at her like that was all he wanted to do to her. He was still holding her hand to and he was stroking it and smirking and - fuck Brienne wanted to fuck him. Perhaps she was just very pent up. It had been quite a while since the last time she’d fucked someone. 

Or perhaps this man just brought out things in her that she had not previously experienced. He was unlike anyone she had met before, so that would make sense.

“Thank you,” Brienne muttered to the waiter as he passed her her food. She took a sip of her water. “So, Goldenhand and the Blue Knight, are they going to get married?” Whether the two infamous knights married or not was a subject of extensive debate between historians.

Jaime grinned at her. “Yes, eventually, but not yet. She’s got to return to Lady Stark and he has to go back to the Queen.”

Brienne groaned. She had hoped that they would not bother leaving each other in Jaime’s book. The last book had ended with them in a tent together, discussing swords and hearts and fucking for hours. “When are they going to be reunited?”

“I thought you didn’t want a bodice ripper,” Jaime said with amusement. “The love story is a side plot. The main part is the Blue Knight’s honour.”

Brienne blushed. “I know that,” she muttered. But maybe since she had told him that she had reconsidered the importance of such things. Perhaps there were things more important than honour and work. She met Jaime’s eyes and they flashed. He was sinfully attractive.

“What do you think is going to happen?”

“He’s going to abandon the queen,” Brienne said with uncertainty. “He’s going to realise she is all wrong for him and is only using him and he’s going to regain his honour and ride away to the Blue Knight.” Jaime’s lips twitched. “Is that it? Is that what’s going to happen?” she demanded.

“You’ll have to buy the book,” he told her and dodged the piece of bread she threw at him without hesitation. This earned her a dirty look from the waiter and far too much laughter from Jaime. “You said you wanted more from me than the details of the next book.”

“That doesn’t mean I don’t want the details. And, anyway, you spilled my coffee. You should just give me your next book.”

Jaime scoffed. “I have bought you many coffees since then. Do I still owe you?”

“I thought Lannisters always paid their debts,” Brienne teased and Jaime chuckled.

“And just how would you like the debt repaying, my lady?” Jaime said in low tones. Brienne’s smile slipped off her face as heat rushed between her legs. She could think of lots of ways that he could repay the debt.

As soon as their food was done, Jaime requested the bill. They bickered over who to pay and Brienne just got her debit card there first. Jaime smirked at her. He took her hand when they stood and interlaced their fingers, his thumb brushed the piece of skin between her thumb and forefinger.

They left the restaurant and stepped into the winter air. The air was cold but, when Jaime caressed Brienne’s cheek with his free hand and then brought his lips up to hers, she felt nothing but warm. And, when they checked into the hotel across the road and he kissed her again in the lift up to the room, she felt the heat spread to every cell in her body.

XXX

Two weeks later, Brienne was Jaime’s girlfriend. And a queensguard, which was really what she should be focussing on, given that she was at work. However, being Jaime’s girlfriend had really taken over a large proportion of her thoughts. She didn’t know whether it was the really good sex or the lovely soft times she spent with him, but he was more important than her job. Which was also still very important.

She still loved Sansa and Arya and she still loved coming to work to protect them but she wasn’t obsessive anymore. She wanted more than just satisfaction at work in her life. And she got plenty of satisfaction at home. Brienne blushed.

Queen Sansa was hosting a writers’ lunch. She loved to read and liked to support writers. Most of the writers who had been invited were little known ones that she wanted to learn more about. A few of them were famous ones that she was a big fan of. Of course, one of them was Jaime.

Brienne had been jitterish all day at the prospect of seeing Jaime at work. He had taken over all aspects of her life except this one. They spent almost every night together, at his house or at her flat, but he had never been in this area of her life.

“What is the matter, Brienne?” Queen Sansa asked. Her voice was amused rather than annoyed. Brienne let out a breath she hadn’t known she was holding as she peered at the door that the writers would enter in through in a few moments.

“I know one of the writers,” Brienne spilled, worrying her lip with her teeth. Queen Sansa raised an eyebrow at her. Brienne didn’t know how to explain and didn’t have time anyhow because, at that moment, the door was opened and the writers began to spill in. Brienne saw Jaime almost immediately. He looked far more put together than he had when she had left him, dishevelled in bed that morning.

Lots of the writers approached the queen first, though there were many literary-minded nobles in the room who attracted some of the authors. Even so, Jaime clearly had the most motivation because he reached the queen and Brienne first. Rather than greet the queen first though, as he should have done, he reached up to cup Brienne’s cheek and kiss her hello.

Brienne flushed as he pulled away, her mouth agape. It was very improper of him to do so. She was at work for one thing and the queen was right there- Jaime smirked at her and then bent to kiss the queen’s hand. Brienne looked between the two in shock, feeling as though her world was colliding.

“I assume you are the reason my queensguard has been so distracted lately, Mister Casterly,” Queen Sansa said to Jaime, using his writer’s name. Jaime grinned at her, his eyes darting to Brienne, who blushed fiercely. She had not realised that Queen Sansa had picked up on her distracted state.

“I hope so, your grace,” he replied, winking at Brienne. Brienne let out a small sound of shock in her throat at his daring. 

“Well, if I did not like you already because of your wonderful writing, your care for my queensguard would make it impossible for me not to,” Queen Sansa said with a graceful smile. Brienne fought hard to control her smile, pleased by the sentiment. “She has never read your books, did you know?”

Brienne glanced at the other writers who wanted to speak with the queen. They were giving Jaime very jealous looks and some were glancing at Brienne too, assessing her. Perhaps they thought Jaime had used Brienne to gain access to the queen more easily. Brienne knew that not to be true. It was merely a happy coincidence. Just like the way Brienne had gained access to the fifth and fully written Blue Knight book, and the first half of the sixth.

“She has now, your grace. How do you think I convinced her to be with me?”

Queen Sansa laughed, a tinkling sound that attracted the whole room’s attention. “I completely believe that your wonderful books have the power to do that. Brienne, I am very impressed.” Queen Sansa said this with a twinkle in her eye that made Brienne blush. She doubted her queen was discussing Brienne’s reading of Jaime’s books.

“Thank you, your grace,” she said, rather stiffly. This was not a situation she could have prepared for. She had assumed Jaime would look at her at the luncheon but never be so forthright. She should have figured that he would surpass her expectations. He regularly did. Queen Sansa chuckled.

“I would be grateful if you sent me your new book, Mister Casterly. I am quite intrigued as to how things are going to progress.”

The assessing look Queen Sansa gave Jaime and Brienne made Brienne believe that she was not just discussing the Blue Knight and Goldenhand. Brienne blushed and Jaime nodded eagerly, grinning at Brienne. Brienne smiled back, the warm feeling spreading throughout her entire body.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here we are folks  
this was more difficult to write than I anticipated
> 
> however tomorrow is another Teachers AU so that should be far easier to write hehe (it is the Christmas do, featuring alcohol, Renly and Loras and a kiss or two)


	18. Christmas Do: Teachers AU Part 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the Christmas do and the teachers are letting loose

Brienne checked her lip gloss in the mirror one last time, reaching up to try and get some volume in her hair. Was it so much to ask that she look half-decent for once in her life? Stifling a sigh, she put her lip gloss back into her handbag and stepped out into the hotel lobby. She had ducked into the bathroom immediately upon arrival to avoid any awkward encounters with any members of staff she didn’t know so well. She really wanted to wait for Jaime to arrive.

“Hello,” she heard his voice in her ear a few moments later when she was craning her neck over the heads of the large number of people in the lobby. Jaime’s voice surprised her, though it shouldn’t have. She should have expected that he would be able to find the tallest woman in the room. The tallest woman in most rooms. Brienne’s stomach squirmed.

Things were good with Jaime. They got on like a house on fire and had even agreed to a date, though Jaime had not mentioned it since he had first asked. Perhaps he had changed his mind. 

“You look nice,” Jaime said as he pointed over to the rest of the school staff, further along in the hotel than Brienne had expected. Brienne scoffed at the sentiment. Even in her nicest clothes, which was what these were, Brienne never looked nice. Jaime brushed his thumb over the strap of Brienne’s sparkly top. “Your arse looks amazing in those trousers,” he whispered close to her ear, referring to the high-waisted trousers she had bought especially for the occasion.

Brienne blushed. She hoped that she was far enough away from the other staff that they could not see her face or see how close Jaime’s lips were to her ear. “Jaime,” she hissed, batting his hand away from her shoulder. He chuckled at her.

“Let’s get some drinks.”

The wait at the hotel bar was long but Jaime filled it with stories and jokes and no more comments about how amazing Brienne’s arse looked in her trousers. It did please Brienne that he was looking at her arse. At least he was still interested even if he hadn’t mentioned taking her out again since that day watching the Polar Express.

“What do you want?” Jaime asked as they became the next in line to order. Brienne nibbled her lip and she saw Jaime’s eyes go there. She released it and licked her bottom lip, realising she needed to reapply lip gloss. Why did she ever bother? Brienne shook her head at Jaime, shrugging slightly. Jaime grinned at her and, when he ordered tequila shots and a cocktail each, Brienne could hardly complain that he had ordered the wrong thing.

“You have to lick the salt off your hand,” Jaime murmured in her ear as the bartender sprinkled salt on her hand and offered her a lime. Brienne nodded dumbly. She had been a university student once. She knew how to do tequila shots. It was just that she could hardly think with Jaime’s lips so close to her ear. “Okay, go,” Jaime said suddenly pulling away from her and licking the salt off his hand, taking the shot and biting the lime. Brienne was a few seconds behind because Jaime Lannister licked the salt from his hand and she saw his tongue and all the heat in her body seemed to rush in between her legs. When she caught up, she found him staring at her biting a lime with a grin on his face.

“Come on, slow coach,” Jaime teased, passing her the fancy cocktail he had bought them both. Brienne hadn’t even noticed him paying. She had had the full intention of beating him to the card machine with her card but, alas, here she was. She would buy the next round.

XXX

There was food at the table, which was good. Brienne had not eaten before they had come out, too anxious to do anything except jitter and overthink everything. So, in between the cocktails that continued to appear in front of her, and the wine that the school’s budget had provided, Brienne ate chips and chicken strips and other little plates of things that most people were ignoring in favour of alcohol.

Sansa and Margaery were wonderfully drunk already, making Brienne laugh and them ignore the way that Jaime’s thigh was pushed right up against Brienne’s under the table. Surely they would notice soon. Jaime’s hand had crept around the back of the chair too and his fingers were wrapped around Brienne’s waist. Sansa and Margaery just kept drinking. Brienne breathed quickly. What would they think if they saw?

Jaime wasn’t looking at her and was keeping up conversation with the two drunk teachers while he pulled Brienne closer and closer to him. They were discussing next year’s classes and the year four teacher Ygritte’s new relationship with Sansa’s cousin and Ofsted - they were eternally discussing Ofsted - and Brienne could not concentrate. When Sansa and Margaery jumped up to go and get another round of cocktails in, Brienne snapped her head to Jaime.

“What are you doing?” she demanded.

He only smirked. “I am distracting you, Brienne?” he asked in breathy tones, leaning into her. Brienne felt her breath leave her. She wanted to kiss him. He tightened his hold on her waist. Their legs were touching, rubbing against one another. Brienne could feel every time he moved, every time he jerked his leg in her direction when someone said something funny or when Brienne wasn’t responding to a question, too bloody distracted by Jaime bleeding Lannister.

Gah, her thoughts were everywhere.

“You are distracting me. I can’t concentrate,” Brienne said, scowling at him. Jaime only grinned and then moved his hand from her waist, brushing his thumb along the strip of skin that was exposed by her leaning forward between her sparkly top and her pants. Brienne inhaled sharply. Margaery and Sansa returned with cocktails that had stripes of pink and yellow. Brienne grinned, feeling a little breathless as she thanked them.

“I am going to miss you when you leave,” Sansa told Brienne, laying her hand clumsily on top of Brienne’s. Brienne smiled. “I love Jeyne but you’ve just been- I don’t know,” Sansa slurred, moving her hand from Brienne’s to gesture wildly in the air.

“That’s exactly it,” Margaery agreed, wagging her finger at Sansa. “Just agh- I don’t know. Going to miss you.”

Brienne glanced at Jaime who grinned and pulled out his phone. Brienne leaned closer to him as he opened up his camera app and switched the camera to video. “Sansa,” Jaime encouraged, nodding at her when she looked up. Sansa giggled at the camera, reaching forward to knock it from Jaime’s hands. Jaime chuckled and leaned away. “How do you feel, Sansa?”

“Drunk,” Sansa practically screamed. Brienne could not help but laugh. Sansa was always so prim and proper, the daughter of the headteacher, head of key stage one, and, yet, here she was, drunk out of her school. “Jaime, don’t tell Tyrion!” Sansa said, her blue eyes suddenly widening and her pretty ginger hair shaking as she wobbled her head from side to side.

“I won’t,” Jaime said, snickering.

“Good, he’ll be so angry with me,” Sansa said with a hiccough and a giggle. “I miss Tyrion.” Jaime snorted and finished the video. Brienne watched with amusement as he entered a messaging app and sent the video to his brother. “Do you know Tyrion, Brienne?” Sansa asked, wide-eyed and innocent.

Brienne nodded, sharing an amused glance with Jaime. She wondered what time Sansa had started drinking. “I met him at the Christmas fair, remember?” Brienne said, picking up her cocktail as Sansa made a drunken swipe at it as she remembered Brienne meeting her husband.

“Of course, of course,” Sansa said. “And my baby Cait?”

“And your baby Cait,” Brienne confirmed, her lips twitching.

Jaime’s hand pulled tighter at Brienne’s waist. She wasn’t sure what he wanted. Perhaps just her attention on him instead of Sansa. She turned to him and found herself captured in his eyes. He opened his mouth to speak when he was interrupted by Margaery’s scream of “Loras!”

Brienne furrowed her brow, moving her gaze to where Margaery had jumped up from her seat, wobbling on her heels as she did, to embrace two men, who Brienne recognised as her best friend and his husband.

“Renly,” Brienne gasped, her mouth slightly agape. Renly’s eyes found hers and she watched them light up. Jaime’s hand loosened at her waist, giving her the freedom to jump up and greet Renly properly. Renly and his husband were dressed fairly nicely, in suits and ties. “What are you doing here?”

Renly grinned, reclaiming his husband from Margaery’s drunken arms. “It’s our anniversary. We came out for some drinks and then, lo and behold, Loras spotted his cousin and here you are with her!”

Brienne nodded. “Margaery and I work together. I didn’t know she was related to Loras.”

“That’s ‘cause he didn’t invite us to the fancy destination wedding,” Margaery slurred, collapsing back into her chair and leaning her head on Sansa’s shoulder. Sansa’s eyes were closed. Loras chuckled but did not say anything. The wedding had been rather small, in Barbados. Brienne had felt very privileged to be invited. “Brienne, how do you know these guys?”

Brienne smiled at Renly, who grinned at her. Brienne retook her seat as she said, “Renly and I went to high school together.”

“And they invited you to the wedding?” Margaery demanded. Brienne nodded with a slightly awkward grin. Margaery harrumphed. “I want to go to Barbados!”

“Let’s go,” Sansa said, opening her eyes suddenly. “Let’s go right now!”

Loras snorted. “Okay, how much have they had to drink?”

Loras and Renly ended up sitting with them, Renly squeezing onto the sofa Jaime and Brienne were sharing and Loras dragging a chair over to sit beside his cousin. “Who’s the pretty boy?” Loras demanded, nodding at Jaime.

Jaime snorted and Brienne grinned at him. “This is Jaime.” Jaime’s fingers were not dancing at Brienne’s waist anymore. She missed the feeling. They were still pressed up close to each other, but she was also pressed close to Renly so it didn’t feel quite the same. Jaime also was not as active in the conversation, probably due to him not knowing Renly and Loras and feeling slightly awkward as a result. He had yet to leave though, which Brienne appreciated. She wanted to spend all night with him.

“Do you think Jaime is pretty, Brienne?” Sansa asked, her facial expressions exaggerated by the amount of alcohol she had drunk. Brienne remembered her pupils asking her the same question when they were making angels a few weeks ago.

Turning to him, Brienne grinned as she said, “of course.” Jaime’s scowl improved slightly. Brienne wished she were brave enough to take his hand under the table. Sansa dissolved into giggles and Jaime and Brienne shared a dramatic roll of eyes. Brienne wanted to lean her head against his shoulder. Instead, she picked up her glass and finished her drink.

“My round,” she declared. “Jaime, come with me.”

Jaime did not complain as she dragged him off to the bar. “Are you going to smile more now?” Brienne asked, joining the queue. Jaime furrowed his brow. Brienne pursed her lips. “You’ve been sullen since Renly and Loras joined us.”

“‘Cause I don’t want to share you,” Jaime grumbled. Brienne’s lips parted and then closed again as whatever she was going to say next became irrelevant. Jaime turned and put his hands on Brienne’s hips. Brienne went breathless, staring at him. His eyes were extraordinary, especially when the pupil was black from drinking. “I want you all to myself.” He pressed his face to her neck, rubbing his nose against her skin.

“Jaime,” Brienne whispered and he pulled away, grinning and bringing her closer to him.

“When can I take you out?” Jaime asked. Brienne smiled. He had not forgotten after all.

“You haven’t mentioned it since you asked.”

“I wanted to make sure you didn’t feel too pressured - admittedly, it was a bad plan,” he said and his hands were still on her hips. She wanted him closer and closer. She wondered if she would ever get fed up of his touch. Surely not. It seemed as though it only got better every time their skin brushed. And he had yet to even kiss her.

Brienne’s eyes found his lips. They were a very attractive pair of lips. “I would never feel too pressured,” Brienne stuttered. Jaime’s lips changed into a smile. His teeth were very straight. His face seemed to be getting closer - perhaps Brienne was too drunk because as she thought he was close enough to kiss, he was suddenly very far away and moving his hands from her hips. He took one hand in his and tugged at it until Brienne started following.

He led her into the corridor outside of the party. Brienne lamented for a few seconds that they had lost their place in a rather long queue. She was sure that Jaime would come up with an excuse for why it took them so long - and then he was kissing her.

Brienne’s eyes widened and she didn’t know what to do with her hands. His hands were on her waist, should she put her hands on his? No, that wouldn’t work. She settled for around his neck and then he tilted his head and he was kissing her properly and Brienne’s eyes fluttered shut and she just enjoyed the wonderful, long-awaited feeling of Jaime Lannister kissing her.

XXX

When Jaime passed those on the table their drinks, he did so with a very easy smile on his face. He grumbled about the long queue and they replied in turn that they thought there must have been, what with them taking so long, and then Jaime sat back down, beside Brienne, and his thigh was pressing against hers and her hand was on his knee - and Jaime must have been the happiest man alive.

He had kissed Brienne. Finally, after so long considering how he would do it, he had done it. And it was amazing. She had clearly been shocked at first but then she had settled into it and her lips were everything he thought they would be. He had thought of this for so long.

Jaime did not want to be here. He wanted to be in a hotel room. He had a hotel room here. So did Brienne. They should choose one and go upstairs and kiss. And maybe more. Jaime did not know what Brienne’s thoughts on sex were. There was so much he wanted to know about her.

Jaime’s heart raced faster. Maybe they could run away upstairs and just talk - and kiss - and he could learn everything about her. He wanted to know everything. With a sudden drunken jolt of his heart, he wondered what on earth her favourite colour was. Noticing that Sansa and Margaery were engaged in a conversation with Brienne’s friend and his husband, Jaime brushed his fingers against Brienne’s back to get her attention.

She looked at him with those sparkling blue eyes. Her pupils were expanded. Jaime wondered if it was the drink or if she was aroused. Maybe it had been him kissing her. The thought made him grin. “Jaime?” she said and her voice wasn’t quite as clear as usual. She was drunk.

“Are you staying in the hotel tonight?” Jaime asked, though he knew the answer. Sometimes he found that that was the easiest way to start a conversation.

Brienne narrowed her eyes at him and leaned closer. “Are you propositioning me, Jaime Lannister?”

Jaime felt heat rise to his face. “No- no, I -” he stuttered but then she was laughing loudly and vivaciously. She was so wonderful. Everyone on the table was looking at them and Jaime could not bring himself to care. This woman - gah, this woman. How had she not existed for him until a few weeks ago? How had there been a time when he was not completely consumed with the thought of her all the time?

He wanted to kiss her again. He wondered if she would let him.

“You look so good,” Jaime murmured. Brienne smiled at him as though he had given her the kindest compliment she had ever received. He hoped that wasn’t true. He would have to put more of an effort in. He would tell her how beautiful he thought she was, every day if he had to, until she saw what he saw, the most wonderful woman on the planet.

“You always look good,” Brienne returned and Jaime grinned.

“Only for you,” Jaime replied, looking down at her lips. He was suddenly conscious that they were being watched. He hoped that the others could not hear their conversation, although he was fully aware that everyone knew of the esteem they held each other in. They were the talk of the playground and the staffroom.

“Let’s get some more drinks,” Jaime said quietly to Brienne. Sansa - his infuriatingly annoying sister-in-law - wolfwhistled as they walked away. Jaime turned and winked at her, making her squeal and throw her head onto Margaery’s. She had told him numerous times how much she wanted him to just get with Brienne. His brother had done the same.

Jaime grinned as Brienne pulled him away from the bar and into the corridor they had just snogged in. She shoved him up against the wall and pressed her body against his, covering his lips with her own. Jaime reached up and buried his fingers in her hair. He wanted her so much. He was sure she could feel how much against her thigh.

“Jaime,” she muttered, pulling away. Her full lips were puffy, making Jaime grin. He reached down from her hair to wobble her bottom one. She scowled and Jaime pressed a kiss to her neck. “Jaime,” she moaned and Jaime wanted to hear her make that sound again so he repeated the action. “Let’s go upstairs.”

Her eyes flashed as she said it. Jaime nodded eagerly, glancing at how close the lifts were. “Yes,” he verbalised. Brienne grinned and grabbed his hand again, leading him to the lifts. They pressed the button and then Brienne kissed him again while they waited. It was all-consuming this desire for her. He wasn’t sure he’d ever felt like this before, like he wanted to fuck her so much but also he just wanted to know what she thought about everything and he wanted to learn everything about her childhood and her future-

He wanted to be her future.

The lift arrived. They giggled getting in, ignoring the judgy looks from the other occupants. Jaime wrapped his arms around Brienne, feeling as though she was too far away. He buried his face in her neck. They were being very unBritish but they were drunk so what was to be done?

When they reached Brienne’s floor, they stumbled out of the lift and he kissed her again. “I want to fuck you,” Jaime said honestly. Brienne blinked in surprise and Jaime was so worried that he had fucked everything up that he opened his mouth to speak but she just nodded and grabbed his hand, leading him to the room that she had been assigned.

Jaime did not know what the room was like, nor whether they had closed the door properly. All he knew was that he was lying on his back, Brienne straddling his hips, and his lips were attached to those of the woman with whom he had been obsessed since they first met.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tomorrow: Belle of the Ball


	19. Breakfast at Winterfell

“Okay, but who do you reckon it was?”

It was at least the seventh time Gendry had asked Arya the question since they had been awoken last night by the sound of very loud amorous activities. They had since been back to sleep, after engaging in some of their own amorous activities (not to be outdone by whoever the culprits were), but they had not solved the mystery of who the noises belonged to.

“I’ve told you, Gendry, I don’t know,” Arya said, pursing her lips. “We’ll likely find out at breakfast.” A grin rose on Arya’s face at the prospect. “I’ll make sure we do.”

The private breakfast room was rather large, given that only eight of them frequently ate there. They were still fighting their war against Cersei and, so, they were still at Winterfell. Of a morning, Gendry and Arya joined Queen Daenerys and King Aegon (Jon, as Arya continued to call him), the Queen’s hand, Tyrion, and his brother, Jaime, Brienne of Tarth and Sansa. 

Arya had placed her bets on Jaime and Brienne as the source of noises last night. Even one-handed, Jaime seemed like the sort of man who would be able to bring some pleasure to a woman. And Brienne was new to the bedroom arts, so she was likely pleased by anything.

Arya and Gendry were the first to breakfast that day. That did not narrow down their candidates of who had been making noise and interrupting sleep last night, as they did not expect those noisy late-night lovers to be joining them early. They seated themselves with an angle towards the door, so that they would be able to see each person as they presented themselves, likely with a blush on their face.

Arya had helped herself to a huge breakfast, to the amusement of her partner, when Brienne and Jaime emerged through the door, discussing a bear or something. Arya didn’t care. She glanced over at Gendry and greeted them with a good morning, to which they replied with their own. Arya was quite surprised they had come down together. Usually, they came separately and then pretended like they hadn’t shared a bed the previous night. Arya suspected it was Brienne who insisted on this farce, to try and maintain some decorum. Everyone knew they had. 

Perhaps their joint arrival meant it was them. Arya arched an eyebrow at Gendry who shrugged with a grin playing about his lips.

“Sleep well?” Arya questioned, arching an eyebrow. Jaime raised his own eyebrows, glancing at Brienne, who flushed. Arya smirked.

“Not really. I suppose we have you to thank for that?” Jaime asked. His tone was smug and amused. It made the smirk slip from Arya’s face. 

“What do you mean? I think we all know it was you two,” Arya commented, sipping at her juice. Brienne spluttered wildly as if she had not known that everyone knew about she and Jaime. Arya rolled her eyes. “Come on, there’s no need to be coy! We’re all friends here.”

Brienne scoffed and glanced at Jaime, who simply smirked. “It was certainly not us,” she said, all prim and proper as though Jaime was not living in her chambers. Arya smirked.

“Yes, we’re old. We were done with our activities far earlier than that,” Jaime added in.

Brienne made a disgusted face at Jaime. “You’re old.” Arya had to laugh at the horrified look on Jaime’s face. Brienne looked away from her partner and back at Arya and Gendry curiously. “Does that mean it wasn’t you two either?”

Gendry shook his head and shrugged. “I suppose it must have been the queen?”

“Do you think she’d burn us alive if we asked her if she was the noisy fucker keeping everyone up last night?” Jaime asked, his arrogant smile playing about his lips. One look at Brienne told Arya that she was not a fan of the way Jaime was describing the situation. Arya found it quite amusing, actually. She was glad that they had kept Jaime around after the Long Night.

“I suppose it’s some kind of treason,” Gendry commented with a grin. Brienne shook her head.

“I cannot believe we are discussing this.”

“What?” Arya asked, mouth full of food and shrugging. “You know you want to know.”

Gendry looked at her distastefully. “You’re so attractive, you know.” Arya swallowed her food and then smirked at him. “Such a lady.” Arya scowled.

“I guess we’ll have to ask Jon,” Arya suggested, to the agreement of Gendry and Jaime. Brienne groaned, covering her eyes. “Come on, Ser Brienne, this is prime blackmail material. And, anyway, it’s only a bit of fun and games. Whoever was making that noise last night, likely the queen, was clearly very happy and very pleasured and there’s no shame in that.”

“How are you going to ask her?” Brienne asked, her eyebrows raised and her face flushed even as she spoke. “Oh, sorry, your grace, will you pass the bacon? Oh, and by the way, was it you keeping us all up last night?” Jaime was laughing before Brienne was even finished. This was a side of Brienne that Arya rarely saw and very much enjoyed.

At that, Arya was glad she had her well angled seat, because she saw Jon and Queen Daenerys as they walked in and then saw their shock. She watched as Jon cleared his throat and then, the most beautiful shot of them all, she saw Brienne’s face flame redder than before, quite a feat. 

“It most certainly was not!” the queen said, her eyebrows raised but a look of amusement on her face that told Arya that no one would be burned alive that day. She took her seat on the other end of the table, next to Jon, who did not look comfortable with the topic of conversation whatsoever. Arya snorted at the look on Jon’s face. He was possibly even more against discussing sex at the table than Brienne.

“Well, then, it was either you and you or you and you!” the queen said, pointing at each couple in turn. Jon turned to his food, clearly not eager to get in on the conversation.

Brienne spluttered yet again. “Ser Jaime and I-”

“We all know you’re fucking, Brienne,” Arya interrupted. Jaime snorted and Brienne gave him an affronted look. He took her hand in his and brought it to his mouth to kiss it. She looked slightly pleased, Arya thought.

“It wasn’t us,” Gendry informed the queen, who turned raised eyebrows to Brienne and Jaime.

“As much as I wish it had been,” Jaime started, earning him a poke in the side from his partner, “it was not us either.”

“Well, then, who was it?” Daenerys asked, a conspiratory tone in her voice. “One of the servants perhaps?”

Arya shook her head. “The housekeeper is very strict on separate quarters.”

Daenerys looked at her husband, whose focus was solely on his food, and lightly tapped his chest. “Come on, Jon, join in.”

“I don’t want to think about any of it,” he protested, earning a fond annoyed look from his wife.

“Who is it, then?” Gendry asked desperately. Arya lay her hand on his and laughed at him. He rolled his eyes, taking her hand into his. Arya made a revolted face at the gesture but didn’t pull away.

“I don’t know who else it could have been!” Daenerys said, her irritation and curiosity palpable in her tone. “Our bets were on Brienne and Jaime.”

“Ours too,” Arya said with a nod. Brienne cried out in protest, clearly mortified. Jaime smirked.

Arya rolled her eyes. “Brienne, get over it. We’re trying to solve the mystery. You’d be helpful if you weren’t so outraged.”

With a glare at Arya, Brienne turned to Jaime, who was snickering. Arya shot Gendry a look and he shook his head at her, amused as usual. Arya grinned. “Perhaps it was the dragons,” Gendry said and Daenerys gave him a glare, which led to Jon finally breaking out a smile and light chuckle.

“If it wasn’t anyone in this room, then who was it?” the King of the Seven Kingdoms asked. All six were bemused. It was only when the door creaked open and Tyrion entered the room with Sansa at his side that Brienne’s affronted look eased.

“You should have known,” she said, poking Jaime once again. Arya furrowed her brow. “It was them!”

“Why should I have known?” Jaime asked, his face and tone clearly outraged at Brienne’s suggestion. “Because he’s my brother? I didn’t see Arya offering Sansa up as an option!”

It clicked for Arya then. She glanced at Sansa, who was not blushed but glowing. With happiness. Arya shot a look at Gendry, whose eyebrows were sky high. Arya thought she was observant but she had not seen this coming.

Sansa and Tyrion took their seats at the table, too wrapped up in one another to notice the whispers around the table. Jon’s jaw dropped and Arya almost felt sorry for the talking to that Tyrion was set to receive. She supposed if anyone could talk back, though, it was Tyrion Lannister. The Imp. Arya cringed slightly at the thought. He couldn’t be any good in the-

Arya’s eyes widened. If her sister had been the one making that much noise, then Tyrion must be good. Arya glanced around the table and saw that both Brienne and Daenerys were glancing at Tyrion consideringly. 

“What?” Sansa questioned, finally noticing that all the attention was on them.

Arya grinned before drawling, “I think we all appreciate the fact that you enjoy sex, Sansa, but, next time, do try to keep it down.”

Sansa and Tyrion’s face lit up red at the echoing sound of chuckles around the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay this was not what I wanted to post today (at all) but I am absolutely exhausted, coming on with a cold and I have a flight in ten hours and have yet to sleep. So, please enjoy this. I read it and redid a lot of it (it's been posted before on fanfic.net) but I don't love it
> 
> I am going to write the prompt that I was going to write for today coz it's a Braime that is not an AU or a Season 8 fix it (shock horror) and I had it all lovely and planned out.
> 
> So, yes, sorry again. Enjoy!


	20. Belle of the Ball

Jaime bounced from one foot to the other, ignoring the odd looks that he was receiving from the maid who had accompanied him into the Maiden Vault. Jaime wiggled his left hand’s fingers against his thigh, feeling a twinge as he tried to do the same with his right hand’s. How long did it take the wench to answer the door?

When she finally did answer, Jaime gave her a scowl and she scowled even more deeply at seeing him. “Can I come in?” Jaime asked. Brienne looked between him and the maid, likely noting the dress in the maid’s arms. Jaime was quite impressed that Brienne did not close the door in his face. She nodded, a bit hesitatingly, giving the maid another look. Jaime grinned, yanked the dress from the maid’s arms and stepped into Brienne’s chambers. “Close the door,” he said over his shoulder. There was a slight pause where Jaime imagined that Brienne gave the maid a contemplative look and then closed the door in her face.

“What are you doing here?” the wench demanded, stomping over to where he was laying out the dress he had had fashioned for her on her bed. “What is that?”

Jaime smiled at her venomous attitude. “I’ve had it made for you. Isn’t it pretty?”

She gave the dress a disparaging look. Jaime knew that he could have put anything in front of her and she would treat it the same. This dress had been commissioned especially for her, by someone who had had a lot of time to watch her body and to consider how she would look most lovely. Of course, the three hours Jaime had spent with the dressmaker would be entirely ignored by the wench who would be entirely furious in whatever dress Jaime put in front of her.

And put a dress in front of her Jaime must.

“As you may know, the king is having a ball this evening,” he told her, loving the way that her entire face blanched as she connected the dots. “My father is insisting you come, as our guest of honour.”

Brienne scoffed. “The Lannister guest of honour?”

Jaime pursed his lips and nodded. “I had this dress made for you.”

“I don’t want it.”

“Very ungrateful.”

Brienne’s face softened and Jaime smiled with it. She glanced at the dress again and closed her eyes. Jaime actually did hate doing this to her. He knew that even in this dress that had been made for her body, she would not look like the rest of the ladies at court and he knew that she knew that and was dreading it, especially as the Lannister guest of honour.

“Will you give me your gratitude in a dance if not in words?” Jaime asked hopefully. It would be his first ball as a one-handed man and he found it unlikely that anyone would be willing to dance with a cripple. Anyone but Brienne that was.

Brienne set her jaw. Her eyes were still on the dress. Jaime personally thought it was a lovely dress, blue and gold. He could have trussed her up in Lannister colours but he had put her in her own colours. At least this way she would feel even slightly at home. “I don’t want to go to a ball.” Her voice was small and afraid. Jaime felt an irrational surge of anger at his father for making her do this. Jaime wasn’t sure if it was supposed to humiliate her or not. Either way, he would protect her from the humiliation that was sure to come, as much as he could.

“Please,” Jaime said softly. Brienne met his eyes and she hoped that he could see that he didn’t want this either, that he was trying to make the best out of a bad situation. She nodded once and scooped the dress from the bed. “You can change in front of me,” Jaime said with a lascivious grin that only made her glare at him.

Jaime shrugged and leaned against the end of the bed frame as she moved behind the screen. She was tall enough that he saw her face and her shoulders as she changed. She threw her shirt and breeches over the frame and then turned to wear she had hung the dress. Jaime could just see the top of her back, her impressive muscular figure. That, and the knowledge that she was almost entirely naked, was too much for Jaime and he had to look away so as not to make a fool out of himself.

He’d had far too many erections about the wench since he had seen her naked in the baths at Harrenhal. Another, now, when they had to attend the ball, would not be ideal.

Jaime looked back up as he caught movement in the corner of his eye. Brienne stepped out, clothed only in a corset and smalls. Jaime swallowed heavily, wishing he could ignore the sudden rush down below. “Can you help me?” she asked, innocently and reluctantly as though Jaime wasn’t straining in his pants at the very thought.

It wasn’t easy to tighten her corset for her, though it would have been if he still had two hands. The problem was that it was a back-tying garment and Brienne just didn’t have the coordination to thread laces like that. With three hands between them, they managed it eventually, leaving Brienne to slip into the dress that went overtop, which did tighten at the front.

She scowled at her reflection, even as Jaime admired the way the dress seemed to show how high her waist was, how bloody long her legs were, how well-defined and round her arse was. Jaime was grateful that he was not wearing the tight trousers he had considered. These feelings were most unwelcome.

“It suits you well, you know,” Jaime commented as she fastened a pair of shoes, leaning one foot at a time on a chair. She glanced up at him and gave him an unattractive derisive look. Jaime shrugged. “Come on, I’d like to escort you to the ball.”

Brienne glared but Jaime didn’t balk. He was not going to let her sit in here and feel sorry for herself until she decided to come to the ball. She was going to come now and let him distract her from the mean comments and dirty looks they would receive. And she was going to dance with him, else his father would make him dance with someone else, who would be repulsed by his stump.

“It would be very remiss of me not to escort you,” Jaime reminded her, holding out his arm. Her gaze fell to it and she worried her bottom lip. Jaime did not move his left arm, even when his muscles began to ache as she stared at him. Eventually, she blinked and stood, taking his arm in hers. She was taller than him, though only by an inch or so, and they may have looked ridiculous, but it was far from the worst situation Jaime had been in.

And at least Brienne was enjoyable company. She could hold a conversation outside of giggles and titters. 

They were able to slip into the ball without much fanfare and neither of them looked so good as to draw immediate attention. Jaime took her straight to the dancefloor, despite her clawing at his arm and hissing in his ear that she most certainly did not dance. Jaime disagreed. As well as all highborn ladies being instructed in dance, she had the most spectacular footwork when sparring. There was no way that that did not translate to the dancefloor.

Jaime found that he was right, in the whole. She was well-taught and graceful, though she became clumsy when she looked him in the eye or when she caught one of the looks that people had begun to toss their way. “Ignore them,” Jaime whispered. Brienne set her jaw. Jaime knew that his words were of little help but they were helping him. If Brienne could mostly ignore them, so could Jaime.

And it wasn’t like his lack of a hand was ailing them here, his stump sat happily against Brienne’s waist. He could feel the bump as her corset finished, turning into bare skin. Behind his eyes, Jaime saw her coming out to him in just her corset, almost bold for once, and asking for help. Behind his eyes, she wasn’t asking for help with her corset.

But that was not the correct line of thought for a ball.

“Cersei is glaring at us,” Brienne ground out between her teeth. Jaime swallowed but nodded. He was fully aware. Although most of the room had not noticed their entry, Cersei had. Jaime’s eyes were well-trained to find her in a room, not that she ever hid, and he had seen as her eyes widened in anger. It had made Jaime feel rather smug.

Brienne’s discomfort with the whole situation made him feel less smug though. He had promised himself that he would make it as bearable as possible for her and she did not look as though she were bearing it well. Jaime brought a smile to his lips.

“Do you see the woman in red?” he whispered, jerking his head to one side. Brienne narrowed her eyes at him but did look over to where Jaime had indicated. She inclined her head. “That’s Lady Taena Merryweather. She’s married to some lord. He’s unimportant, especially to her.” Brienne furrowed her brow. Jaime smirked. “She swings the other way.”

Jaime thought he might have seen a brief flicker of shock in Brienne’s eyes before it disappeared and she only scowled at him. Jaime nearly tutted. Perhaps the Bloody Mummers had taken away his wit when they took his hand.

“Okay, okay, Lollys Stokeworth, the one in the pink with the frills,” Jaime muttered. Brienne nodded more quickly, clearly having noticed the cake-like monstrosity earlier, as Jaime had. “She’s been betrothed four times in the last two years.”

That did make Brienne’s lips quirk. “She’s even beating me.” Jaime’s eyebrows shot up. Brienne pursed her lips. “Just because I look like this doesn’t mean my holdings aren’t attractive.”

Jaime felt like the biggest dick on the planet and, while he likely had been in the past, he had only been trying to make her comfortable, not play to her insecurities. Jaime shook his head. “I wasn’t shocked because of that, only because you’ve not mentioned it.”

She managed to shrug while she still danced with more grace than most of the ladies in court. Jaime smiled. She scowled. “I was betrothed three times. None of them are particularly happy stories.” Jaime was very sure he did not want to know but then Brienne’s lips twitched, making Jaime grin too. “Actually, the last one - some old castellan that my father would entrust Tarth to - I ended the betrothal by beating him so hard I broke his collarbone.”

A snort burst from Jaime with little control. “You beat him?”

Brienne nodded and her cheeks were flushed but her eyes were sparkling. She was clearly fairly proud of this. “He was seventy years old and I was ten-and-six.” Jaime felt his face revulse in horror. Brienne nodded severely, allowing him to spin her when he tried. Though it was clumsy with his left hand, Jaime still felt accomplished for having spun her successfully. “He said I would not be allowed to play with swords if he married me. I challenged him. He lost.”

“And you broke his collarbone,” Jaime added gleefully. “Serves him right. Who would not want a wife he could spar with?”

Brienne made a funny face at him. “Most men.”

That brought Jaime up short as he considered what he had said. She was quite right, most men would not want a wife who could spar with him, who could best him even. But the idea was quite pleasant to Jaime. He could just imagine sparring with his wife, getting their juices up and then fucking her right there, their swords discarded at their sides.

Jaime swallowed. He’d been too long without a woman.

“After that, I told my father that I would not marry a man who could not beat me. He accepted and, anyhow, any marriage prospects I might have are rather thin on the ground.” The way she said it questioned all that Jaime knew of her. He had assumed she had not wanted a marriage but the way in which she seemed to lament a lack of marriage prospects suggested she did want it. Perhaps just not in the way she had had betrothals before.

Jaime shook his head. “You have something better than marriage prospects.” Brienne half-smiled at him, a little indulgent and condescending for Jaime’s liking. He smiled. “You have honour and you can stab anyone who says otherwise.”

Brienne laughed at that, loudly. The very sound of it made Jaime grin. It was an ugly laugh, a true laugh. It hid nothing. Perhaps Brienne misread Jaime’s grin for mocking, for her face grew suddenly forlorn and flushed.

“You should laugh more often,” Jaime said and he was careful to sound genuine and serious, lest she think him mocking. “You have a proper laugh, not a court ladies’ laugh.”

Rather than be complimented as Jaime had hoped, she gave him rather a sad look. “Why do you stay at court if you hate it?”

Jaime opened his mouth but found himself without words. He truly had no clue what to reply to that. They turned with the dance, giving Jaime a glimpse of his golden sister, scowling by her son. Jaime felt a lump, heavy in his chest. “You know why,” he murmured.

Brienne shook her head, her blonde locks shaking with the gesture. “I know why you think you have to but there are other possibilities.”

Jaime felt his heart stop for a second and then start again as though nothing had happened. “What possibilities?” But she only shook her head.

“I shouldn’t have said anything.”

XXX

Brienne groaned loudly as the banging at her door did not stop. She had hoped it was just drunken interlopers, banging on every door, but this drunkard did not seem to be going away. Perhaps she ought to go out and teach him a lesson about waking up women with swords.

She did pick up her short word to take to the door, just in case it was rapers or murderers or kidnappers or - she found Ser Jaime at her door. Her heart constricted painfully and then her shoulder twinged as he shoved his way past her into the room. Brienne shook her head to clear it, wondering if she was still asleep. Glancing out of the door and then back at Jaime, Brienne pushed the door closed and barred it, turning back to the man who had barged his way into her room.

“This is very improper,” she told him, her voice shaking. Her fingers itched on the short sword, as though they wanted to use it, to kill something.

“I don’t care about impropriety.” Brienne stifled a sigh. Ser Jaime was drunk. He had not been when she had left him at the ball. He approached her and she could smell alcohol on his breath. He brushed his thumb over her shoulder, covered by an old shirt of her father’s. “You don’t care about impropriety either,” Ser Jaime said, dragging his finger lower, dangerously close to her breasts. Brienne narrowed her eyes, her breath quickening.

“What did you mean earlier?” he asked. His tone was demanding but Brienne understood the emotion behind it: confusion and not anger. Brienne blinked. She truly just wanted to go to bed and deal with Ser Jaime in the morning.

“You’re drunk,” Brienne said, ignoring the way his finger was now tracing patterns on her neck. He came closer and took her cheek in his hand. Brienne forced herself to remain still. “Ser Jaime, please,” she said, her voice waivering.

Ser Jaime leaned even closer and pressed his face into her neck, rubbing his nose against her skin. His breath tickled her and made her hairs stand on end. “I don’t want you to call me Ser Jaime anymore,” he murmured and it made every single thing in Brienne’s body stand up, made every goosebump tingle and every blood cell heat. “Tell me what you meant.”

Brienne hesitated. “I only meant you could leave, if- if you wanted to.”

“With you?”

Yes, yes with me, Brienne wanted to say. They could leave and never come back, be knights together, be honourable together, be happy together. Brienne’s stomach twisted.

“If you wanted to,” Brienne said with uncertainty. Ser Jaime chuckled against her skin and pulled his face back. His green eyes met her blue and his fingers reached across from where they had been cupping her cheek, brushing the rough callouses against Brienne’s lips, which eagerly parted in response. 

“Ser Jaime,” she whispered, afraid of her body’s reaction.

“Jaime,” he corrected, brushing the fingers back the other way. Brienne only stared. What was she supposed to do? Where were the rules for this situation? Her blood was on fire.

Finally, Jaime stepped away, smiling sadly. “I should probably leave.” Brienne nodded quickly. “I’m going to miss you,” he whispered as he continued to step away, backwards as though he were not drunk and perfectly able to walk in a straight line. He eventually stumbled onto the door and, trying to open it without losing her gaze, he struggled and had to turn. Brienne’s heart felt the loss.

She watched as he unbarred the door, opened it and then stumbled back out into the corridors, without a look back. Brienne blinked back the tears that struck as she closed and rebarred her door. She would never answer her door at night again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is the chapter that was supposed to go up yesterday! I got home to England this morning and, even though I am very tired from my early flight, I was determined to post today. I've not reread it so I apologise for the countless mistakes - I will reread at some point and, if it is very bad I will post a revised version. But hopefully it's not!
> 
> Tomorrow, provided all is well, will be a cutesy Christmassy romantic thing, as yet unnamed


	21. Christmas Traditions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning: this is soft and fluffy with little plot and zero angst but it's four days til Christmas and I don't care
> 
> (also this is the latest I've ever posted a fic - it's technically the 22nd in the UK what am I doing)

“Happy Christmas Eve,” the jolly man in a reindeer Christmas jumper and santa hat at her door said, his beautiful face in an absurd smile. Brienne chuckled, nodding at his jumper and raising her eyebrows. He shook his shoulders to show it off and make Brienne laugh again.

“Come in,” she said, amusement still in her tone. These were her favourite days of the year.

“You spoke to Margaery?” her best friend said as he placed a twelve-pack of beer on her kitchen counter. Brienne grimaced. Jaime grinned. “You tell her that we have the best Christmas and we don’t need any Stark solemnity?”

“Big word,” Brienne teased, breaking the packaging apart to access a beer. Jaime made a face at her, before turning and rummaging through her cutlery drawer to find a bottle-opener. He opened his own beer and then reached for Brienne’s. “I did tell her that. What did she say to you?”

Jaime barked a laugh, handing her back the beer and scooting up onto her kitchen counter. “Arya shouted in the background that we just spend the full day banging.” Brienne flushed at the accusation and opened her mouth to speak. “Don’t worry. I told her you get tired at about 1 and we spend the rest of the day watching shit films.”

“Agh, Jaime!” Brienne cried, searching blindly behind her for something to throw at him. A sudsy sponge hit the top of his head, knocking his red hat askew. Brienne grinned in triumph. Jaime scowled. “I hope you didn’t actually say that.”

Jaime shrugged. “I did but they knew I was joking.” Brienne’s insides squirmed with something akin to disappointment. Because of course the thought of sleeping with her would be a joke. “Anyway, it’s Christmas Eve! Come on, let’s put Home Alone on.”

When they had organised the television and a blanket and put the remaining beer in the fridge, they sat down together to watch their first Christmas film of the holiday, the way it had always been, since three years ago, when this had all started. Jaime always sat in the corner of the sofa and Brienne always lay, snuggled into his chest, his arm over her shoulder and her feet flat against the end of the sofa.

Jaime adjusted his arm around her and pulled her closer. His Christmas jumper was very comfortable to lie on. “Do you think this is why they think we’re banging?” he whispered, a few minutes in, brushing his arm up and down hers. Brienne snorted.

“Probably.” Brienne paused. “I don’t care. Do you?” Despite the awkward position, she glanced up at him, watching as he comforted her with a shake of his head. She turned her attention back to the film.

XXX

They shared a bed, as they did every year, going to bed after Home Alone and a chat and a laugh and a few beers. They argued over what time to wake up, as they did every year, with Jaime wanting early and Brienne wanting later. Jaime was always more for the Christmas spirit than Brienne. And then Brienne held Jaime in her arms like she always did and he made spoon jokes and a joke about her definitely being a top in bed which made her tap his head firmly. He laughed and twisted his neck back to look at her. “I love you,” he whispered with a grin.

Brienne smiled too. “I love you too, weirdo.”

They woke up at the negotiated time of 8am and Jaime made a whole silly thing of pretending Santa had come, even though they had organised their own presents into piles themselves. Despite having been in her arms all night, Jaime wrapped an arm around her waist and pressed a kiss to her shoulder that made shivers shoot down her spine. “Merry Christmas,” he said with a grin.

“Merry Christmas, Jaime,” she said with a happy smile down at him.

They opened their presents relatively slowly. They didn’t have a huge amount, though they did generally buy a lot of little ones for each other. Jaime rarely got any from his family, except a book from his brother every year, and Brienne didn’t have a family to receive from. They just had a lot of friends.

“I’ll make us breakfast, wench,” Jaime said when they were finished, wearing the silly kimono that Brienne had bought him as a gag. Brienne grinned up at him and nodded. Like usual, she would tidy up the living room while he made them a full English. Brienne had to squeeze past him at the sink to get a bin bag and he gave her a look as their bodies touched that made her feel funny inside, eyes alight with something that Brienne couldn’t pinpoint.

She picked up all of the scrap paper, lamenting on behalf of the environment. The joke hair-braiding set she had bought Jaime lay happily on the sofa, next to the book on historic swords and armour that he had very thoughtfully purchased for her (although she did think that perhaps he wanted to read it too). She smiled at the thought of discussing it with him and then looked up to find his eyes on her.

“What?” she said defensively, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear and tying the bag in a knot. Jaime shook his head, running his tongue quickly across his top lip. Brienne blinked and turned to pick up her presents and take them to her room.

When she returned, she started to ask, “Jaime, what do you want me to do with your presents?”, when she found him laying the table with a candle and fancy plates. Brienne laughed slightly. “What are you doing?”

Jaime shrugged, looking down and then back up at her. “Thought it would be nice.”

It was nice, nicer than their usual casual Christmas, just the two of them, doing their traditions. Brienne smiled and approached, taking the seat she always took. “It is.”

XXX

At four in the afternoon, Jaime Lannister lay on the sofa, crying out dramatically and running his hands over his protruding stomach. “Brienne, save me. I’m too full.”

They had eaten their Christmas dinner a few hours earlier, a feat of mastery that they made together, and then sat and watched Love Actually with an entire vanilla and caramel cheesecake between the two of them. They had the same cheesecake every year, ordered from Jaime’s favourite bakery in town, and it was wonderful. And every year, Jaime regretted eating half of it.

Where she sat on the sofa, with his head in her lap, Brienne smiled down at him. It was very easy to make her smile at Christmas. She was so relaxed that he could even get away with complimenting her a lot of the time, where usually she would go moody or just laugh bitterly at him. She’d even let him put his arms around her that morning and kiss her shoulder.

Everything was going wonderfully.

He’d made every step of the day as romantic as he could, without changing anything really. He’d thought she might say something at breakfast when he had lit a candle and put out fancy plates that he had bought specially. But she hadn’t. And he’d made her favourite breakfast, like always, but he had cut nice things into the toast, a Christmas tree and a very dodgy heart. She’d laughed at him but she had smiled.

Jaime lived to make her smile. And, provided all went well, she would know that this evening, after he had given her the best Christmas day known to them. And their Christmas days were always good.

“I want to make mince pies now, Jaime,” Brienne said and she really did have a tone of excitement. This was the one part of the day that Brienne truly did because she loved it and not just as an indulgent act for Jaime. And, thus, even feeling as though he may fall into a food coma any second, Jaime agreed.

They did not make mince pies from scratch, not entirely anyway. They bought ready-made pastry and mincemeat but they did put them together, with a squeeze of orange in the mincemeat. And they were always lovely and still had that lovely homemade taste.

“Struggling?” Jaime murmured as close to Brienne’s ear as he allowed himself. She was attempting to unfurl the roll of pastry but it was sticking together. She shivered, hopefully because of Jaime’s closeness to her. She shook her head and then did succeed, making Jaime smile at her.

They were a good team. She cut out the circles that were the base and Jaime put in the right amount of mincemeat. Sometimes, he put in too much or too little just to hear her admonish him and that was always the prime opportunity to tease her and she always pinked up just lovely.

Then they cut out star shapes to top the pies and put them in the oven. “Have you got icing sugar?” Jaime asked.

Brienne nodded, pointing to the cupboard that Jaime knew it would be in. Sometimes he just spoke for the sake of speaking. He pulled the box of icing sugar from the cupboard and, seeing her peeking in the oven, he sneaked a finger into the box. When she turned around, he leaned forward in her thankfully small kitchen and swiped a line of white powder from the bridge of her nose to about halfway across her cheek. That was as far as he got before she squawked and, grinning, tried to wrestle the box out of Jaime’s hands.

When she spilled a large amount, she gasped so dramatically that Jaime had to laugh and he was just stood in the perfect position to wrap his arms around her from behind so he did, leaning his head against the side of hers. “Don’t worry about it,” he whispered. She softened in his arms.

Jaime backed up his words with actions and cleaned up the mess himself, while she patted the powder from her face.

XXX

“No, no, not again!” Brienne cried out as Jaime won yet another cracker. He had bought a twelve-pack, absurdly given that there were two of them. Jaime had thus far won six of them, out of six. And Brienne was not happy whatsoever.

She had always considered crackers to be a test of strength and she knew she was just as strong as Jaime, if not stronger. So he must have a secret trick. She had decided this after the fifth win and then had watched him on the sixth. And she really could not figure out what he was doing.

“What are you doing?” she demanded a few seconds later after he won yet another cracker. “How are you winning?”

Jaime burst out laughing at her irrational anger. Brienne’s heart warmed slightly at the sound. He was so carefree at Christmas. Three crackers later, he finally cracked and explained to her how he was winning. Something to do with tilting and two-hands and a firm grip. The lascivious look he gave her as he explained it made Brienne’s blood set on fire. She had to lie her hands flat on the sofa to calm herself and remind herself that she somehow had to share a bed with this man that night.

“Wanna watch the Christmas Prince film?” Jaime asked a few moments later, when they had successfully balanced his nine cracker crowns on his head and Brienne’s dismal three on hers. And then they took two very silly selfies - one of which including Jaime kissing Brienne’s cheek sloppily - and then a relatively nice one in which Jaime made Brienne laugh halfway through and he was grinning and glancing at her. It made Brienne’s heart yearn for more.

She shook herself. “What else would we watch?” Jaime gave her a fond roll of his eyes.

“What are we going to do when they stop making these every year?”

Brienne shrugged, shaking out the blanket that they had used last night. “Netflix will make some shit, cringey Christmas film every year. It’s as much of a surety as you pretending you don’t love them.”

Jaime sat down on the sofa, in his classic position. “I love them because you love them.” Brienne smiled slightly and sat down, waiting patiently for Jaime to move his arm so that she could tuck herself under it and then cover them with the blanket.

“Jaime,” she hurried. He was just looking at her and then he shook his head. Brienne flinched backwards but then he leaned forwards and covered her lips with his own. It took Brienne a few seconds to respond but she did and then he was pulling away and leaving Brienne’s lips bereft.

Her lips dried because they remained parted as she stared at him in confusion. He was looking at her in the same way he always did, the same way best friends looked at each other, as though they hadn’t just kissed. Or as though they always kissed. Brienne blinked and broke his green gaze, her eyes going to her knees. Jaime thumbed her chin to make her look back up at him.

“I love you,” he said softly. Brienne smiled.

“I know, weirdo. I love you too.”

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “I love you.” He said it differently, putting an odd emphasis on the word love. As though he- “I love you, Brienne, and I should have told you ages ago - I should have realised ages ago.”

“You- you-”

“I love you,” he said and his lips descended on hers again. Brienne was ready this time and she kissed him back, moving a hand to cup his cheek softly, thumb brushing against his beard.

When he pulled away, she said quietly, her eyes on his, “We should make this a tradition.” 

His eyes sparkled as he smiled. “I’m afraid I cannot wait until Christmas to do that again.” Brienne grinned and shook her head.

“Me neither.”

She kissed him this time and, smiling, pulled away to find him looking just as he always did. Because this was just a wonderful addition to what they always were.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tomorrow: teachers AU part 9 (?)


	22. Last Day of Term: Teachers' AU Part 9

Jaime found his way into the classroom stealthily, closing the door as quietly as physically possible. He crept into the main area and found Brienne, on a ladder, taking down the tinsel that she had put up a few weeks prior. Jaime smiled at the sight and approached. Thankfully, she wasn’t very high up the ladder, due to her above average height, so Jaime found himself at a decent height to slip his arms around her waist.

She made a gasp of surprise and stumbled slightly. Jaime grinned. “Hey,” he whispered, pressing his face against her back. “We’re finished.”

Brienne hummed, reaching for his hands to untighten them from around her waist. She stepped down from the ladder with the tinsel. Jaime shifted backwards to allow her to get down but then grew closer again, replacing his hands on her waist. “Hey,” he said again, looking up at her.

“Jaime,” she laughed. He noticed her glancing at the door, likely worried that someone would find them. She considered their workplace romance to be very improper.

“When can I see you naked again?” Jaime murmured, leaning close so that she would feel his breath against her ear. Brienne shoved at his chest, pushing Jaime back and leaving him laughing. “Come on, Brienne. The children have left. It’s the Christmas holidays. Can’t I be jolly?”

“You can be jolly. You cannot be frisky,” she said very primly. Jaime smirked.

“I love when you talk dirty to me,” he said with a faux lascivious grin and lowered eyelashes. Brienne groaned.

“Don’t you have things to do?”

Jaime’s smirk fell to a simple amused smile. “I’m all done. Pia and I have been taking down Christmas decorations all day when the children were busy. I’ve sent her home and I want to go. I want to take you out,” he said hopefully.

Jaime nearly celebrated when her face softened and she nodded her head. “What do you want to do?”

Jaime shrugged. “Ideally fuck you but we can go for food first.”

The tinsel brushed his head and shoulder as it fell to the floor. She was glaring at him. Jaime snickered and approached again, placing his hands on her hips and pressing a kiss to her shoulder. “Jaime,” she said tensely.

Jaime shook his head, releasing her from his hold. “You weren’t my first stop when year five had all gone.”

“Oh?” she said, glancing at him even as she found the whiteboard eraser and started to wipe off all the doodles and notes that were littered over the whiteboard. Jaime considered whether he had done the same. There was nothing so annoying as forgetting to do that and getting back in January to ingrained whiteboard notes that would haunt their lessons until Easter.

“I went to see Catelyn.” Brienne froze momentarily and then started to move again but Jaime noticed the movement. He assumed that she understood what he had gone to see her about. “I walked in and sat down and cleared my throat and went to speak and she just went ‘I know you and Brienne are together’.”

Brienne’s face was a picture, as her head snapped around to look at his raised eyebrows. Her eyes were widened in horror and her lips parted. He could see her tongue as it traced between her two sets of teeth. “She said what?”

Jaime sighed. “Brienne, don’t be upset. It’s good. She said she didn’t care that we were together, that she was happy for us.”

Brienne shook her head, placing the eraser back on its little perch on the bottom of the whiteboard. “No, Jaime. What if she thinks I’m very unprofessional?”

Jaime’s lips twitched. “I doubt she thinks you’re very unprofessional.”

Brienne only scowled and swept over to a table close to Jaime, collecting the books that children had left strewn there. “Jaime, I need her to give me a good reference at the end- at the end of this and-”

“And she will,” Jaime sighed, catching her wrist and rubbing circles on it with his thumb. “Brienne, you’re a magnificent teacher. You deal with behaviour in a way that is completely fresh and new to everyone at this school. You will get a glowing letter of recommendation, whether or not you are fucking me.”

Brienne narrowed her eyes for an instant at his final comment but she did seem to accept the rest. “I’m just worried that people won’t take me seriously.”

“I know,” Jaime said and he shifted his hold of her wrist to intertwine their fingers. Brienne smiled and Jaime tugged her arm to make her come close to him. She laughed as she did and Jaime took her other hand. “I want to be with you.”

“I want to be with you too,” Brienne said. Jaime smiled and leaned up to kiss her softly.

“Good.”

XXX

Jaime had clearly done a good job on Brienne because, by the time he had helped her to take down all her Christmas decorations, she was happy for him to carry her book bag to her car with one hand and have the other hand curled around her waist, caressing her through her silk shirt. They poked their heads into the office to say goodbye to the office staff, who tittered at their closeness. Brienne stiffened slightly but did not pull away from him.

“Come on,” Jaime murmured. They walked to Brienne’s blue car. She unlocked it and opened the boot, allowing Jaime to put the bag of life full of books into it. Then she slammed it shut and turned to Jaime, initiating a very brief kiss that made Jaime grin like the Cheshire Cat. He hoped everyone at school had seen it.

Letting out a sigh of content, he said, “isn’t it lovely finishing before it goes dark? I love the last day of term.” Brienne nodded and Jaime hummed slightly, taking his eyes from the blue sky to Brienne’s lovely blue eyes. He leaned across and gave her a peck.

“I’ll see you at the restaurant.” Brienne nodded again, her lips stretching slightly in a smile. Jaime wiggled his fingers at her and headed to his black car around the corner, wishing he could just go with her and not have to leave her, even if it were just for the twenty minutes that it would take them to reach the restaurant.

Jaime put the radio on and listened to the cheesy Christmas music all the way there, with a great big smile on his face. For once, he thought that Christmas wouldn’t be awful. The day would be as dismal as ever, even more so with the addition of Cersei and Joffrey. At least Myrcella and Tommen would balance that out a bit, even if Myrcella was slightly miffed and disgusted with Jaime at the moment, following Cersei’s revelation about their childhood relationship. But Jaime put that to the side.

He had a girlfriend now and he wanted to focus on her. She made him happy.

When he arrived in the car park, Jaime did a quick scan, flicking his car locked and then pushing the keys awkwardly into his pocket. He found Brienne waiting by the doors to the shopping centre. “Hello,” he greeted her and kissed her again. He half thought she would complain but she didn’t. She even leaned forward and gave him another little kiss after. “Where do you want to go?” Jaime asked, reaching to take her hand.

Brienne stared at their interlaced hands with something Jaime thought was pleased amusement. She didn’t say anything about it. “I don’t mind.”

Neither did Jaime, so they ended up at an Italian that wasn’t too full, though the Christmas season had clearly made an impact. It was quite noisy. Brienne and Jaime were given a table towards the back, near the kitchens. Their breakfast date the previous Saturday morning, after their wonderful night, had been much better situated. But Jaime would sit tied to a horse with Brienne if that was what it took to spend time with her.

There was a candle lit between them on the table and tinsel all around them. “What are you getting?” Brienne asked in loud tones as she perused the menu. Jaime wished they weren’t sitting opposite each other. He didn’t know who had thought that up as a romantic setting. Surely it was better to be next to your partner, where you could curl your fingers around their waist and hold them, where you could press your thigh against theirs, feel their shoulder rub against yours. Far more romantic. “Jaime?” Brienne prompted.

Jaime blinked and turned his eyes back to the menu, taking them away from Brienne and thoughts of her thighs and touching her skin. He hummed as he took in the options. “Probably a pizza. What about you, sweet?” he said absentmindedly, thinking more about what he wanted on his pizza than what he was asking.

Brienne’s snort broke him from his reverie. Jaime furrowed his brow at her. “You just called me sweet.” Jaime felt his cheeks heat slightly.

“Oh,” he said. He hadn’t really noticed that he’d done it. He shook himself. He was Jaime Lannister and he didn’t get embarrassed for calling his girlfriend by a cutesy nickname. “You are sweet.” He paired it with a shrug just to get across how completely nonchalant he was. Brienne’s lips twitched.

“Okay, honey,” she said, placing emphasis on the nickname. Jaime snickered. He understood why she had snorted now. It was quite disconcerting.

Jaime grinned. “What are you having then, angel?”

Brienne smiled too, her mirth clear in her sparkling blue eyes. Jaime could see the flickering of the candle flame in them. It reflected quite lovelily against her skin as well. She was so beautiful. “Probably the risotto, babydoll.”

Jaime barked out a laugh. Babydoll was a good one. The waiter arrived then and, sharing a toothless smile, Jaime turned from Brienne to order his drink and food and then admired her as she did the same. She put on her teachers’ voice to do it, severe and proper. When she found him staring as the waiter left with their unnecessary wine glasses, she said, “what’s the matter, boo?”

Jaime sniffed out a laugh. “Just admiring you, babe.”

Jaime actually didn’t mind the nickname babe. Perhaps he would start calling her that. Perhaps he would call her it in front of Catelyn. That would be very amusing. He wondered if there were any nicknames she approved of. He would have to keep trying until he found one that she liked.

When the waiter arrived with their drinks, Jaime raised his glass and encouraged Brienne to do the same. “To the end of the best term of my life, which brought my wonderful girlfriend with it,” he said, tipping his glass enough to clink it with Brienne’s. Brienne grinned at him, like she always did when he called her his girlfriend.

XXX

Later that night, as Jaime sat between Brienne’s legs, leaning back against her marvellous chest, he found himself serenely happy. He drew patterns on her thighs until she giggled and would every so often have a surge of dread that he should be doing something for school. But he didn’t need to, not for a few days. He was giving himself a few days of freedom, of Brienne and of wonderful sex.

Jaime arched his neck so that he could kiss Brienne. “Do you think many people know about us at school?” she asked when he pulled away.

Jaime shrugged. He truly did not care because he knew that nobody at school cared, but Brienne did not know them as well as he did and also had a less secure position. So, inevitably, she felt less assured of their casual attitudes. “Probably a few. We were quite obvious at the Christmas do.”

Jaime turned to see Brienne flush. He loved that she had pinned him against the wall in the corridor, the kiss that had led to them heading to a hotel room. He loved whenever she was bold enough to do something like that, but she was always scared of being too bold, too big.

“You were the one pouting when I wasn’t paying you attention,” Brienne teased. Jaime grinned, scooching back to lean his head higher, on her shoulder.

“You should always pay me all the attention.”

“Arrogant prig,” Brienne said and Jaime chuckled in his throat.

“Perhaps that’s the nickname you should use for me, babe,” he said teasingly. Brienne snickered. Jaime moved the hand that was drawing patterns on her leg higher up.

“Perhaps I will. In front of the children.”

Jaime hooted in laughter. “Thankfully, they likely won’t know what it means.” Brienne hummed and a laugh came from her nose. Jaime moved his hand higher, twisting it quite uncomfortably. Brienne’s breath caught. Jaime smirked without looking after her and withdrew his hand.

He turned. Her legs moved automatically to allow him room. He kissed her once and then moved down, paying brief attention to her chest and then settling very happily between her thighs. Flicking his eyes back up at hers, he found them lust-filled and sparkling. Jaime dove in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yet again, little plot to be found here
> 
> thankfully that is the point of prompt fill fics like these!!
> 
> I hope you like this! I just wanted to show how comfortable they are growing with each other rather than have anything dramatic happen.
> 
> The next Teachers' AU will be Boxing Day I think and tomorrow is the Jaime version of day 15 (where he decorates the house ridiculously)
> 
> AND also I hope that posting will be going ahead smoothly over the next few days but I got home two days ago and there's so much to do and so many people to see and gah I love it but I do also want to make time for writing. So, fingers crossed but if anything is a day or two late I apologise!!
> 
> Thank you for reading. It means the world to me


	23. A Festive Home Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is to be read after chapter 15!! but tbh it will probs make sense anyway if you haven't read that or if you can't remember what happened

Jaime sighed as he closed the door as softly as he could, stepping into the Christmas bonanza that Jaime had created a few weeks ago. Their stupid door still made quite a bit of sound. But none of that mattered now because Jaime had finished work and it was officially the Christmas holidays. He padded into the kitchen and opened the fridge, finding a cold beer and taking the fridge magnet cum bottle opener to open it.

The stairs squeaked as Jaime took them. He hoped that Brienne wasn’t asleep. It hadn’t been long into their living together that Jaime had realised that she woke up whenever he went to get a drink at night. Jaime had started ensuring that he had his water bottle full and by his bed every night since, to make sure that he did not disturb her.

The sound of Call the Midwife greeted Jaime as soon as his aching knees reached the top of the staircase. He smiled and approached her open bedroom door, pushing it open and leaning against the doorframe, beer in hand, as he observed the room. Brienne was lying on her bed, her iPad propped up on her lap. Her eyes found him quickly and she paused her programme.

“How you feeling, beautiful?” Jaime asked softly. She had a red nose and flushed cheeks and she clearly hadn’t brushed her hair and, yet, or maybe so, she was the most beautiful woman that Jaime had ever seen. She crumpled her nose at him in response to his nickname. Jaime grinned as he realised she was wearing the pyjamas he had bought her, that read ‘Santa’s favourite ho’.

“Better,” she rasped through her cold. Jaime smiled at the lie. He took a sip from his beer and approached, sliding his shoes off at the side of her bed. He sat down and swung his legs up before shuffling next to Brienne and putting an arm around her shoulders. He pressed a kiss to her temple. “Jaime, don’t let me infect you,” she said but she buried her face into his shoulder nonetheless.

“Can I get you anything?” Jaime asked. Brienne shook her head. There was a box of tissues beside her and some cold-and-flu tablets beside that.

Brienne groaned and it was a strangled sound that belied her misery. “I wanted us to have a good Christmas like you planned.”

Jaime chuckled. “We’re going to have a good Christmas.”

Brienne shook her head. “How?” Despite her illness, her eyes were as stubborn and fiery as ever. “You went to all this amazing effort,” she said, gesturing to the snowflake stickers in her window and the tinsel wrapped around her bed posts. “And all I can do is sit here and sniffle. I want to enjoy it with you.”

“I am enjoying all of this,” Jaime said honestly, hastening to add, “not seeing you in pain, obviously.” Brienne snorted. “Come on, we’re still watching Christmas films and eating Christmas food and I get to do all of it with the girl of my dreams snuggled into my shoulder.” Brienne blinked. Jaime grinned. He wondered if she was considering what other girls had been there, to snuggle into his shoulder? Jaime tightened his hand around her shoulder.

“What are you on about, Jaime? Am I having a fever dream?”

She did not have a fever but that didn’t stop Jaime’s smirk and comment of “do you often have dreams about me calling you the girl of my dreams?” 

She blushed, though the difference in her face colour would only be noticeable to someone who had spent hours studying her face and falling in love with it, even in illness. “What did you think all of this was?” Jaime asked, drawing circles on her shoulder. She shivered. “I didn’t want us to have the perfect Christmas just for the fun of it. I wanted you to see how much I was willing to do for you so that, when I tell you that I am in love with you, you won’t shut me down.”

Brienne’s lips parted. Jaime smiled. “Is this a joke? Jaime, I’m too weak for jokes.”

Jaime rolled his eyes. “Of course it’s not a joke, wench. I downloaded Pinterest for you!”

Brienne chuckled but Jaime thought it was unintentionally and perhaps a bit prompted by shock. She opened her mouth to speak again but shook her head, her eyes going back to the black screen that she had been watching Netflix on.

“Brienne,” Jaime said, shifting to look her in the eyes. “I want to be with you, properly. I want to take you on dates and kiss you and hold your hand when we’re out and when we’re in and I want to come up behind you in the kitchen and give you a hug and I want it all to be completely normal. I love you and I want to be with you.”

Brienne swallowed. “Jaime, I don’t know what to say.”

Jaime groaned. “Brienne, say that you love me and you want to be with me. Or don’t and I promise I won’t bring it up ag-”

“Of course I love you,” she said with a tone of impatient annoyance, as though Jaime should have just assumed that the wench was in love with him, as though she was the sort of person whose feelings could be easily read. Jaime scowled at her. “I just- I never thought you would love me,” she said a bit lamely with a shrug.

Jaime chuckled quietly and leaned in close, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Get believing, beautiful.” Brienne bit her lip and looked down. Jaime moved back to wrap his arm around her. “Come on, let’s watch Elf.”

Brienne smiled and unlocked her iPad, even letting Jaime see the password as she entered it. After a few minutes, the film started to play and Brienne turned to Jaime. He raised his eyebrows at her, his tongue sneaking out from between his teeth. “All this, the Christmas stuff,” she started, “it was a very romantic way to say I love you.” She said it quite shyly but Jaime understood. He nearly puffed up under the compliment.

“I thought it would be a good story to tell our grandkids,” Jaime said with a wink, enjoying the way Brienne’s eyes widened and her lips parted. Jaime was desperate to kiss her but the last thing they needed was both of them to be ill for Christmas. Someone had to cook the dinner. And, anyway, being with her and knowing that she loved him was enough. “And I wanted to impress you.”

“I am very impressed.”

Jaime stroked the long sleeve of the pyjamas they had, taking a sip of his beer. He turned his eyes back to the film. Nothing had changed between them. They were still Jaime and Brienne, best friends. And, yet, now, everything was different because they were in love.

Jaime grinned, popping another kiss on Brienne’s head. Sat here, still in his suit from work, arms wrapped around the love of his life, watching what was arguably one of the best Christmas films, he had never been happier in his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes, this is soft again and also not entirely what I planned on writing (not at all) but the idea of Jaime telling a sick Brienne that he was in love with her and not kissing her but it being obvious that they were getting together was kind of stuck in my head as I was trying to fall asleep last night
> 
> so here it is
> 
> it is also (I think) the shortest prompt I've done but tbf it just finishes off the main bit from chapter 15 and clears up Jaime's motivations for doing all that
> 
> merry christmassss


	24. Opinions of Lions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime cares little for the opinions of lions
> 
> Set in a world where Joffrey did not die and Sansa did not leave King's Landing

“Hello,” Jaime whispered as he closed the door behind him, as softly as he possibly could. He heard his wife’s dramatic gasp and laughed out loud.

“Jaime, you can’t be here!” she admonished. Jaime couldn’t see her face but he could imagine the look she was giving him anyway. Grinning, he found the bed and rolled himself onto it, finding his wife’s heavily pregnant body easily. He latched on to her, burying his face in her breasts and pressing his whole body alongside hers. It had been too long since he had felt her. He felt himself growing hard and sighed. “You certainly can’t do anything with that!”

Jaime chuckled, burying his laughter in her chest. “I’m not here to do that. My hand will suffice for now.” Brienne snorted. Jaime had missed the ugly sound of her laughter. “How are you, sweetling?”

“Jaime, you shouldn’t be here,” she said but her tone was quite sweet and her hand was laced in his hair and Jaime thought he had made the right decision in coming to see her. The room was so dark. He wondered if they let light in during the day or if she was lying in boredom like this every day and night. He imagined she was going insane.

“I’ve missed you,” Jaime breathed, moving his face to her neck. He pressed a soft kiss there and saw her smile spread, even in the dark.

“I’ve missed you too. It’s not too much longer now.”

Jaime groaned, pulling back from her and sliding to a seated position like her. He pressed their shoulders together and she moved hers to wrap and arm around his waist. Jaime smiled. “I hate not being with you. Tyrion and Sansa seem to think I can’t cope so they are always with me. It’s like having watchers.”

“They mean well,” Brienne said, her tone rather soothing. Jaime pressed his lips to her shoulder. “Sansa spends every morning with me.”

Jaime grinned. “Isn’t she a good goodsister?”

Brienne’s beautiful eyes sparkled in the dark. Gods, Jaime had missed her eyes. Had it truly only been half a moonturn? It felt like ages had passed since he had had a conversation with her. His life was lacking. “Yes, almost worth marrying you.”

Jaime gasped dramatically. “You don’t mean that, wench. I am your everything.”

Brienne laughed, a great thing that warmed Jaime’s insides. “My everything,” she mocked, her hand fumbling until she found his cheek and cupped it in her hand. Jaime grinned, leaning into it.

“I know you’re mocking me but it does still make my heart warm.”

Brienne hummed in laughter and leaned her head down against his. She was silent for a moment and Jaime reached his left hand across to caress her baby bump. He could not want to meet their child. Brienne thought it was a boy but Jaime had a secret deal with their baby that it would be a girl. Jaime couldn’t wait to teach his girl to spar and have her run riot around the castle - with the other seven children who would follow. Although he might have to do something about this silly confinement.

“Are you coping?” Brienne asked and her eyes were lit up with worry.

Jaime smiled, nuzzling his face against her neck. “No,” he said honestly. “I’ll be glad to have you back.”

He felt her muscles change as she smiled. “I’ll be glad to be back.”

XXX

“Jaime, you’re being ludicrous,” his father scolded. Jaime shrugged, not looking away from his wife. They were saying that he had to leave the room. The nurses had tried, Tyrion had tried, Sansa had tried and now they had brought in his father. Well, they could keep trying. Jaime was not going to leave his wife while she gave birth to their daughter. “You have been ridiculous throughout this whole process. First, you sneak into her confinement and now this. When will you learn to be a true man and stop ridiculing this family?”

Jaime truly did not care what his father thought. When he had caught him sneaking out of Brienne’s confinement chamber, he had not cared when he had received a smack over the head, nor had he cared about the little speech his father had given about doing things properly. This was his and Brienne’s relationship and they had never done things properly.

He was not going to start now. He was going to stay with his wife until their baby was in her arms. And she was safe.

The thought that both of their mothers had died in the birthing bed was never far from mind.

Brienne’s eyes were closed as she recovered from her last contraction and replenished her strength for her next one. “Do you want some water, sweetling?” Jaime asked, brushing his thumb across the back of the rough skin on her hand. She nodded. Her breath was still coming heavy. Jaime let his hand slip from hers as he stood and approached the water jug on the sideboard by the window. His father followed him unfortunately.

“Jaime, it is bad luck for the husband to be with the wife while she births their child. I understand you care little for how ridiculous you look in the eyes of others, but I know that you care that she survives this.”

Jaime’s father’s eyes flashed and Jaime hated him for it. He poured Brienne a goblet of water. “Father, were you with Mother when she birthed Tyrion?” Jaime almost felt proud when he saw a flinch of pain in his father’s face.

“No.”

“And nor was Brienne’s father with her mother when she died. They died anyway, without a man in the room. I am staying with my wife until our child is born. I love her and will not leave her, not for anything.”

Jaime hoped his face was vehement enough that his father understood that he was not backing down on this. They met eyes once more and his father nodded once and strode away. Jaime let out a breath he had not known he was holding and returned to his wife’s side. He helped her drink the water and stroked the hair back from her face.

When Maerye Lannister of Tarth came into the world, pink and squealing, a few hours later, with no complications and at a perfect weight, Jaime pressed a smacking kiss to his wife’s forehead and sent a private fuck you to his father. His family - and their way of doing things - may not be proper but fuck proper. What they did was right and no one could convince them otherwise.

XXX

“Fuck, Jaime, yes,” Brienne keened, pressing her head back against the wall of the store cupboard where Jaime had somehow convinced his wife to fuck. Their daughter was three moon turns old. For the first two moon turns, the nurses had said that Brienne was recovering and, therefore, no sex. It had been torture - for both of them.

Especially because Brienne had been cleared for sparring after a moon turn.

Jaime had spent a whole moon turn wanking over watching his wife spar and get sweaty. Whatever lack of pleasure he had found in his left hand was a thing of the past. He had relearned the skill.

But all of that was over now. And they were having proper sex again - and all the fucking time. Which was what had led to Jaime propositioning Brienne at dinner and leading them to the nearest empty room they could find.

Her legs - her fucking legs - were wrapped around his waist as he fucked her against the wall. All the exercise he had done while she was in confinement had been worth it. He was strong enough to hold her and fuck her at the same time. And there was no greater pleasure. Except perhaps when she did it to him.

She came soon after, when Jaime adjusted his arms so that he could press his fingers against her clit and make her keen and whine and groan his name. She threw her head back and thrust her chest forward as she rode out her orgasm. It took incredible self-control for Jaime to not come inside her at that very moment, when her walls were spasming around him.

“Come, Jaime,” she whimpered, her lips parted as she continued to gyrate her hips. Jaime couldn’t pull out though; her legs were too tight around him and they had agreed to pull out for a few months at least, so that Brienne wouldn’t be pregnant again for awhile.

“Can’t,” Jaime grunted, closing his eyes tightly. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“No, come,” she hurried, reaching down between them. Jaime stilled.

“Fuck, Brienne, we said-”

“I don’t care. Come, come,” she said and Jaime met her eyes. He nodded and covered her lips with his own, roaring into her mouth as he came inside her for the first time in three moon turns. When they recovered a few minutes later, Brienne said, “just get me pregnant again. We may as well.”

Jaime grinned at her and kissed her again. He loved their family and couldn’t wait for it to grow again.

XXX

“She looks beautiful,” Jaime said, pressing a kiss to his little daughter who sat happily on Brienne’s dressing table, which was empty as usual. Brienne smiled at him, standing upright. “So do you.” Jaime kissed his wife lightly, tilting his head upwards slightly to do so. He scooped Maerye into his arms and held her to him. Brienne smiled at them.

“Shall we go?” she said nervously. Jaime smiled and nodded.

“I’m sorry,” he apologised for the thousandth time. Brienne shook her head. “I wish we didn’t have to go.”

“But we do,” his wife said, ever the practical. Jaime kissed her one more time before they left.

They arrived in the dinner room last but there were two seats together. Jaime shot his brother a thankful look. Last time they had had a Lannister dinner, Cersei had orchestrated things so that Jaime and Brienne were not sitting together, making Brienne feel uncomfortable and Jaime angry until they had both left. That had been two months ago. Maerye had been too small then but she was seven moon turns old now and, therefore, old enough, in Jaime’s opinion, to divert unwanted attention from his siblings and father.

Jaime and Brienne sat between Sansa and his father, with Brienne next to Sansa. Jaime’s wife had a very companionable friendship with Sansa, based almost entirely on their ‘secret’ search for Sansa’s sister that Jaime was very well aware of, even if Sansa had not wanted him to be. Jaime protected the secret from his father and sister, of course, and he could understand why the Stark girl wanted Jaime and Tyrion out of their secret.

“Good evening, Father,” Jaime said, sitting down and organising Maerye on his lap properly.

“Why have you brought your child?” Cersei said, sneering. She was sitting opposite Jaime, unfortunately, meaning he had to see her beauty distorted by her cruelty and bitterness all evening. Already halfway into a goblet of wine, Jaime imagined that his sister would use alcohol to bear the evening, as usual.

“Why have you brought yours?” Jaime said, nodding at Joffrey beside her. Tyrion snorted and Cersei and Joffrey’s face went the colour of puce. Jaime smirked. Brienne cleared her throat next to him.

“I am not a child, Uncle,” Joffrey spluttered.

“Of course not, your grace. When is the first course arriving?” Jaime asked blandly, turning to his father.

“Anyone would think you wanted this to be over, Jaime,” Tyrion said, sipping his own wine. Jaime met eyes with his brother, who was on the opposite end of the table to his wife. He wondered if they had chosen to do that or if Cersei had orchestrated it like she had previously to Jaime and Brienne.

Maerye babbled something, grabbing for a fork from the table and waving it around. She was her father’s daughter, always wanting attention, unlike her mother. Jaime took one of her pudgy hands and pulled her to her feet on his lap. Brienne reached for the other hand to keep her steady, Jaime of course only having one available. She giggled shortly and then stumbled back. Brienne smiled, a rare occurrence at one of these horrors of dinners. Their daughter made everything better.

Maerye continued to babble nonsense throughout the meal, talking over boring conversations about state and power and bitter opinions about people at court. Maerye’s talk was far more interesting. Jaime made funny faces at her, which had the added bonus of making Brienne laugh too.

Five courses later, Jaime’s father suggested they retire for some wine. “I’m sure your nursery maid can come and collect the child,” he said, waving at Maerye. Jaime stood and shifted Maerye onto his hip. He shook his head.

“I’m sure Maerye would like some wine too. There’s a fondness for it in this family,” Jaime said with a sardonic smile towards his drunk brother, sister and nephew. His father gave him a chilling look and stalked away.

In the solar, Jaime and Brienne settled together on a chaise longue that wasn’t entirely in the circle in front of Cersei’s fireplace, hoping that they could just stay for a few moments and then escape this farce for another few moon turns. Maerye sat on Brienne’s knee, playing with her belt. She was wide awake, having napped for four hours that afternoon.

“So, goodsister,” Cersei called from the other side of the room. Jaime closed his eyes in dread and reached for Brienne with his good hand. “Are you ashamed of having a husband who coddles your baby as he does?”

Jaime was almost shocked that Cersei could hit them both with one comment, especially after so many goblets of wine. There was silence in the room. Jaime watched Tyrion lay his hand on Sansa’s arm to calm her angry response.

“I am proud of having a husband who can truly show love to his child,” Brienne said, unflustered, wonderful, incredible. Jaime gaped at her composure and calmness in the face of Cersei. Her eyes were like steel, shiny blue steel. She moved Jaime’s hand from her wrist to her hand and interlaced their fingers.

Cersei’s face lit up in anger, her eyes burning like wildfire. Jaime swallowed, turning away from his family and back to his wonderful wife. “Walking around like that, with a babe on his hip, it’s as though he’s twisted like Renly Baratheon was. I do feel sorry for you, dear sister,” Cersei said. When Jaime snapped his head to her, she was smirking, eyes narrowed with the pleasure that only a cutting comment could bring Cersei. Jaime was sure she knew of Brienne’s connection with Renly. He felt Brienne’s skin heat with ire.

“I assure you we have no issues,” Brienne hissed. Her eyes were also narrowed. Jaime almost choked when he realised that Brienne was talking about sex. As was always the case, anger took his prim and proper Brienne’s filter and let her do whatever she wanted. Just like when she had stood entirely naked in front of him in the baths at Harrenhal, when he had made a comment about Renly.

If Jaime were not so secure in how they felt about each other, he may take issue with her anger over any comment about Renly.

“Enough, Cersei,” Jaime’s father said when Cersei opened her poisoned mouth to speak again. “Jaime does not need reminding that he looks a fool around his family.” His father shot daggers through his eyes at both he and Brienne.

Jaime’s bark of laughter came easily and without much warning. He felt Brienne’s hand tighten around his. She was very good at defending him and not very good at defending herself - or considering herself worth defending. “And yet again you prove why we do not enjoy these dinners.” Jaime took his daughter into his arms. “I am going to take my foolish family and return to our chambers, where we are happy and content with our lives, not bitter, drunk and power-obsessed. But, please, enjoy the rest of your evening.”

Jaime led his wife out of the solar, let her step out first and then, with one scathing final look at the rest of his family, he followed her. When they lay in bed, their daughter playing between them, Jaime knew that what he had said was true. He decided it was time to get away from his former family and put all of his efforts into this wonderful family they were growing. He reached across to brush Brienne’s stomach. She smiled at him and covered his hand with hers.


	25. Christmas Day: Teachers AU Part 10

Brienne woke up with a start, her phone buzzing beside her. She fumbled in the dark until it was in her hand. With squinting eyes, she recognised Jaime’s name and swiped to accept the call. “Hello?” she croaked.

“Merry Christmas!” she heard down the phone. Brienne half-laughed as she pulled herself into a seated position, reaching out with her other hand to switch her lamp on. “I hope I didn’t wake you up.” He did not sound very apologetic.

“You did but I’ll forgive you,” Brienne replied with a smile. She glanced at her clock on her bedside table. It was nine-thirty, quite a reasonable lie-in on Christmas morning. “What time did the kids have you up?”

Jaime groaned into the phone. “Tommen had us up at six. Joffrey complained and Father refused to get out of bed, so it was just me, Tommen and Myrcella for about half-an-hour, until Cersei stumbled her way down.”

Brienne heard the bitter tone in his voice and almost said something. She decided not to, though. “What are you up to now?” she asked as cheerfully as she could. Turning her eyes to her door, she considered pulling herself out of bed to make coffee. One look at the half-finished book on her bedside table reminded her that she had no plans to get out of bed until midday.

“Not much. Tommen and Myrcella are playing with their toy swords. Cersei is already drinking. Father is reading some boring book Tyrion got him for Christmas and Tyrion and Sansa should be here in about half an hour.”

“So you thought you’d call me?” Brienne teased. She thought she could hear Jaime’s smile.

“Of course. Are you still planning on reading all day?” he asked.

“Yes,” she stressed.

“You could come here you know,” he said lightly. From the moment that Brienne had told him of her plans for the day, he had been hinting that she should join him.

“Jaime,” Brienne groaned, leaning back against her pillows.

“I know, I know,” he said. “I just wish you weren’t alone.”

Brienne had to smile at that. His coddling was from a good place and she truly didn’t mind it. “You’re never alone if you’ve got a good book.”

Jaime sighed. “You know what I mean and with your dad-”

“Jaime,” Brienne interrupted, “I promise you that if I get too sad over my dad not being here then I will call you and cry down the phone to you, okay?”

Jaime hummed. “If you do that, I will come and hug you, no questions asked.” The thought was very pleasant. Brienne let herself grin. “I wish I was with you today.”

“I’m sure the children are pleased you’re there.”

Brienne heard Jaime sigh. “Tommen is. Myrcella has an odd thing where she will talk to me for half an hour as though nothing has changed and then she’ll remember about her mum and me and won’t speak to me in anything but sarcasm for the next hour. It’s quite frustrating.”

“I’m sure. You can only keep talking to her though. There’s nothing else you can do.”

“I know.” Jaime was silent and Brienne felt the absence of his voice, enjoyed the sound of his even breathing. “You are wonderful, you know that?”

Brienne blushed even in the seclusion of her bedroom. “Shut up.”

“I mean it, you-”

Brienne heard the door open wherever Jaime was. “Who are you talking to?” She’d never heard Jaime’s sister’s voice before but she was sure it was her.

“No one,” Jaime said quickly. Brienne had to ignore the pang of pain in her chest at his dismissal. She knew his relationship with his sister was complicated. “What do you want, Cersei?”

“Is that this girl you’re fucking?”

“Cersei- Brienne, I’m gonna have to go,” Jaime said quietly in the phone to her. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

And, with that, he hung up, leaving Brienne feeling a little bit low and alone. She blinked back tears and threw her phone to the other side of her double bed. This was what books were for, to forget.

XXX

“Come with us, Jaime,” Tyrion encouraged at about three o clock when he and Sansa were standing by the door with the pushchair, baby Caitriona fast asleep. Jaime hesitated. He had plans to leave but not to go to what he imagined was a terrible Stark Christmas, full of board games and honourable men.

“No,” he declined, smiling when Sansa gave him a piteous look. “I’m not going to stay. I’m going to go to Brienne’s.”

Sansa’s wolf-whistle was unappreciated. “Seeing her on Christmas Day is very serious,” Tyrion teased.

Jaime pursed his lips. “Well, she’s on her own and I’d rather be anywhere than here.”

“Then come to ours,” Sansa pressed. “You don’t want to come on too strong.”

Jaime smiled and flicked open his phone. He’d been talking to Brienne non-stop all day, since he had finished that awful conversation with Cersei and had had a moment to send her a message to apologise for the way he had finished their conversation. After a few moments’ silence, she had replied and things had gone back to normal.

“I don’t think she’ll mind,” Jaime said confidently, beginning to write his text. His brother and sister-in-law looked dubious but Jaime didn’t care. Nobody else knew his relationship with Brienne, nor did they know Brienne, not like he did. And he thought she’d like it.

XXX

Brienne knew who was at the door the second she heard the knock. A smile rose on her face involuntarily. She hadn’t needed him to come over but it was very lovely that he had. The second the door was open, she kissed him. He took her face into his hands and held her to his lips as they stumbled back into her hallway.

“I missed you,” Jaime breathed. Brienne beamed.

“I missed you too.”

It had been less than twenty-four hours but Brienne was dizzy from the rush of their reunion. They stood, door open and letting cold air in, for a few moments, foreheads pressed together. “I don’t ever want to be away from you.”

Brienne was glad that Jaime had said it because she was not bold enough to. “I feel the same,” she replied. They shared a smile and then Jaime pulled away and closed Brienne’s door. He’d been to hers before, a few times now, and he usually stayed the night. A tingle ran through Brienne at the thought that he would do the same that night.

“Nice book,” Jaime commented, nodding at the historical fiction that Brienne was halfway through. It was her second book of the day. She smiled.

“Charity shop. Cost me a quid.” Jaime’s eyebrows rose and he approached, plonking himself down on the sofa. He picked up the book, careful not to lose her place, and turned it over to watch the blurb. A silly excitement, almost giddiness, rose in Brienne’s stomach at the thought of how right it felt watching him sitting in her living room, reading her books. She sat next to him and leaned her head on his shoulder. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pressed a kiss to her temple.

“How are you?” he murmured. Brienne nodded, ignoring the sudden lump in her throat at the thought that her dad was here and god- he was never going to meet Jaime. She shook her head too. Jaime said nothing at all, just shifted her until she was on his lap - and god she must have been too heavy but he didn’t say anything - and his arms were around her and she buried her head in his neck and cried.

XXX

Jaime watched the credits roll on Brienne’s laptop. She didn’t have a TV so they had got Netflix up on her laptop and found the crappiest Christmas film they could find and watched it and laughed at it. Brienne had fallen asleep about an hour in, her head lolling on Jaime’s shoulder.

Reaching for the laptop to switch it off, Jaime moved, jerking Brienne and waking her. “Hello,” he whispered, as though they were not the only people in the house and as though it were not eight o clock at night and no later. Brienne smiled, rolling her shoulders. She always did that in the mornings when she woke up, slowly and then all at once, like a cliché from a novel.

“What happened in the film?” she asked with sleep in her voice. She cleared her throat, making Jaime smile.

“They lived happily ever after.” Brienne sighed in pleasure. “Do you want to go to bed?” Jaime asked, brushing his hand against her cheek. Brienne’s eyes flashed and suddenly Jaime’s innocent question about his girlfriend’s energy levels became something entirely different.

“Here will do nicely, I think,” Brienne said, stretching back with a grin. Jaime smirked, his eyebrows raising.

“Will it?”

“Mmhmm,” she said with a nod and a bite of her bottom lip. Jaime leaned forward and kissed her, nibbling at the same lip with his teeth. When he pulled away, Brienne got a soft look on her face and looked up at him, saying, “Thank you for coming today.”

Jaime had a dozen crude comments in his head but he only shook his head and kissed her again. She had needed him, despite her protests otherwise, and there was literally nowhere else he would rather have been.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh hey hey yes this is another Teachers AU there are two more to come after this on the 29th (absolutely not coming tomorrow but it's the 29th prompt)
> 
> tomorrow: yet another Winterfell fic based in Season 8 but featuring quite a lot of Sansa and Tyrion although the plot will primarily be Braime (intriguing I know)


	26. Talking with the Lannisters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa has two conversations with the Lannister brothers about Lady Brienne

“My lord,” Sansa said, though she did not turn. She knew the sound of Tyrion’s footsteps well enough from their marriage. She had only spoken with him once since his arrival at Winterfell and not at all since his brother’s arrival. She had spoken to very few people since Ser Jaime Lannister’s arrival the previous day. Brienne was not one of them. She had yet to get her head around what happened at Ser Jaime’s trial.

“Lady Sansa,” Tyrion said quietly. Sansa glanced down at him, taking her eyes from the snow-capped mountains and the Winterfell soldiers training below, led by Brienne. “How are you?”

“Very well, Lord Tyrion, and you?” Sansa replied by rote. He gave her a look, narrow-eyed and cutting. Sansa stifled a sigh. “Why do you ask?”

“Your brother says you did not leave your chambers yesterday evening.” Sansa’s lips parted to speak, most likely angry, cutting words about Jon and his nosiness, but she closed her mouth. “You were missed at dinner.”

It was a kind remark that reminded Sansa that she was living in her Winterfell. These walls were hers and none other’s. “I had dinner with my friend, privately. I had a trying day yesterday.”

“The Queen said she spoke with you.”

Half of Sansa’s mouth quirked and she turned her face from Tyrion’s to hide it. She knew that the dragon queen had not been happy with the way their conversation had ended yesterday. It was likely that the conversation would have gone on longer, had Theon not arrived and interrupted. “I hope that she thought well of me.”

Tyrion gave her a look that called her out on her bullshit statement. Sansa tried not to smile. “What can I help you with, Lord Tyrion?” she asked.

Tyrion stepped in front of Sansa and nodded out at Brienne, who was leading the troops. “Your sworn sword spoke very well of my brother yesterday.”

Sansa side-eyed Tyrion, wondering what the purpose of this conversation was. “Yes. She is very honourable, more than your brother deserved.”

“And yet you pardoned him.”

Sansa swallowed. “Brienne is the truest friend and soldier I know. I trust her with my life.”

“I wanted to thank you,” Tyrion said, though he kept his eyes on Brienne. Sansa felt a lump rise in her throat. The past few days had been too much emotion, too many feelings and Sansa’s mask was becoming harder and harder to keep in place. Hugging Theon in public yesterday had likely been too much of a show of affection. The gossips were probably already in work about them.

“It is Brienne you should be thanking,” Sansa said steadily.

Tyrion shook his head. “Sansa, you could very easily have condemned Jaime for the things he has done wrong. They are plentiful and terrible. You showed that you are a wonderful leader when you listened to Lady Brienne.”

Sansa scoffed, “or a soft-hearted fool.”

Tyrion’s lips twitched. “Yes, likely that too. Even so, I thank you. My brother has had a difficult life, although admittedly it may not look like it. I am glad that he has this second chance.”

“Everyone deserves a second chance.”

Tyrion inclined his head. “Indeed. It is refreshing to see Jaime away from my sister’s influence, I must say.” Sansa felt her throat tighten at the reference to Cersei. “At heart, my brother is kind and honourable but, under her thumb, he became twisted and selfish.” Sansa imagined that Tyrion felt some bias in the way he saw his brother but there was likely truth beneath the words. Cersei took everything good and turned it to evil. “It is easy to see where Lady Brienne’s affection for him came, if she spent so long travelling with him. She would have seen his goodness eventually.”

Sansa closed her eyes. “Brienne does not have an affection for Ser Jaime. She is just too honourable to watch a man that she believes to be good die.” It was what Sansa hoped anyway. She may have pardoned Ser Jaime but he had still done too many wrongs to her family and she wanted him in no connection with them whatsoever.

Tyrion gave her a wry smile that made Sansa’s stomach squirm. “Sansa, don’t be a fool.” It was a very casual way of referring to her and it was a very casual statement. Sansa glared at Tyrion, who rolled his eyes. “Don’t look at me like that, Sansa. You were my wife once. I can call you by your first name, though you never did with me.”

“Brienne is my sworn sword. I don’t want to believe that she would grow an affection for a Lannister.”

Tyrion laughed, likely with the vehemence with which Sansa said his surname. Sansa allowed him a smile and he returned a grin. “You were once a Lannister yourself, Sansa. Perhaps Brienne simply fell in love.”

Sansa nearly choked. “Love?”

“Yes, are you aware of its existence?” Tyrion asked. Sansa scowled at his teasing grin. If he knew what had happened since she left him, perhaps he would not joke so easily. That being said, Tyrion always had a joke at his lips. “I don’t know if my brother is in love with her though I’d like to think so.”

“You must be joking, Tyrion,” Sansa said, alarmed. She could see Brienne having an affection for the man but love? Sansa had always thought that Brienne was far too sensible to fall in love. She had thought that she could see the evils of men, the way that they used women for their needs and nothing more. Sansa pursed her lips.

Tyrion shook his head. “Perhaps you should speak with her, if you are so uncomfortable with the idea of it, though I would ask that you not discourage it. Nobody but me has looked at my brother as a good man since he killed Aerys. I imagine it was that faith that Lady Brienne has in him that drove him to leave Cersei and come here to fight, alone.”

Sansa inclined her head once and jutted her chin as she stared out at Brienne commanding their troops. Surely this woman who was so loyal and true would not leave her for a Lannister, would not leave her at all. Sansa felt nerves take flight in her stomach.

XXX

She found Jaime Lannister watching the troops an hour later. She’d not been looking, not really, had just wanted to think and to plan the conversation she would have with Brienne, but when she’d seen him, a tangible curiosity had spurred inside her and she had approached him without truly thinking.

“Ser Jaime,” she greeted, taking her feet to stand beside him. He stood straight at her voice, moving his arms from where they were leaning against the wood ramparts. Sansa noticed that he was not wearing his golden hand.

“Lady Sansa, how may I help you?”

Sansa could hear Brienne bellowing down below. She wondered whether Ser Jaime had been watching her specifically or all of the soldiers. She had been told that he was a force to be reckoned with as an army commander and as a swordsman. It was entirely possible that he was watching the soldiers and feeling sad that he had lost his hand.

The horrible feeling in Sansa’s heart made her certain that he was watching Brienne. Probably because he was in love with her.

“Your brother tells me you have an affection for my sworn sword,” Sansa said bluntly.

“Lady Brienne is quite formidable,” Ser Jaime said evenly. If Sansa was Tyrion, she’d have made that calling out bullshit face.

“May I ask how you know her?” Sansa asked.

Ser Jaime ducked his head slightly to hide his smile. Sansa nearly groaned. There was very clearly something going on there. “You know that your brother kept me in a cage for a year?”

Sansa smiled at the thought of Robb’s strength. “Yes.”

“Well, your mother wanted to trade me for you and your sister so she freed me and sent me to King’s Landing with Lady Brienne.”

“So, when Brienne said that you made an oath to my mother…” Sansa trailed off, remembering her mother’s smile and strength.

Ser Jaime gave her a pitying smile that Sansa almost appreciated. “I did make an oath to her, though I think she counted on Tyrion’s fulfilling it rather than me. When we eventually reached King’s Landing, I sent Brienne after you and your sister. A piss-poor way to honour my oath, truthfully.”

Sansa did appreciate Ser Jaime’s honesty. It was a terrible way to honour an oath to her mother but it was better than nothing. “I hardly helped, leaving your brother as I did. I would have been far safer if I had stayed and allowed Lady Brienne to rescue me earlier.”

Ser Jaime smiled. “Yes, wouldn’t we all?”

It was a cryptic comment but Sansa did not press him. She had a feeling she understood anyway: that he should have left his sister earlier for Brienne. With a choice between Cersei and Brienne, Sansa could not see how he could have faltered but for Cersei’s manipulation. Sansa set her jaw.

“My lady,” Ser Jaime said hesitatingly. Sansa glanced up at him, briefly wondering if he was taller than Brienne. “I would ask you not to bring this up with Lady Brienne. She would be embarrassed and would believe that she had let you down in some way.” His words made Sansa feel guilty for her thoughts about Brienne since she had defended Ser Jaime. “She has not let you down. She would never let you down. You are her priority, far more than I. Any affection we have for each other is nothing more than friendship.”

Sansa knew it was a lie immediately by the way he glanced down at her. Suddenly, Sansa felt as though she should release Brienne from her oaths. Perhaps this man could make her happy, in a way that Sansa knew she never could be with a man. But Sansa’s attitudes towards men did not need to be reflected upon Brienne’s life too. That would be cruel and selfish.

“Ser Jaime, I care about my sworn sword far more than just because of the oath that we swore to each other. She is my friend and a member of my family. I would not want her to say no to something that would bring her joy because of an oath she swore.”

Ser Jaime gave her a bewildered, wide-eyed look that almost made Sansa laugh. It was as though he had never considered the idea that something would be more important to Brienne than her oath. At least it showed that he knew her well. “My lady-”

“We might all die soon, Ser Jaime. It would be a shame if Lady Brienne died feeling unloved.” Ser Jaime’s lips parted. She felt almost pleased to have shocked him into silence.

“My lady, I am unworthy.”

It was barely a whisper but Sansa could hear all of the pain in it. Sansa shook her head.

“No one is unworthy of love, Ser Jaime.”

And with that, Sansa left him, staring out at Brienne, a stricken look upon his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I intended for this to finish happily and with Sansa seeing how happy Jaime made Brienne but that is not what happened here obviously?? The words ran away with me in a different direction. what can you do


	27. Back in Time part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jaime and Brienne take a brief break from not really saving history to get married and jump off cliffs

“Jaime,” Tywin Lannister greeted with a bow of his head. Brienne watched as Jaime’s easy smirk fixed in its place. He looked more a Lannister than ever. “I expected you three days ago.”

Jaime glanced at Brienne, who ducked her head to hide her blush. Jaime had convinced her to take three days out of their journey to be wedded and bedded in a tiny coastal village with stunning views of the sea. He had sent their escort on ahead with news of their arrival for his father. And then he had convinced Brienne not to leave the little cottage he’d rented for three full days. Admittedly, Brienne had not needed much convincing.

They were planning to wait to get married until they reached Casterly Rock and discussed how best to get Jaime out of the Kingsguard with Jaime’s father. However, they had received a letter two weeks into their journey from Robert Baratheon, relieving Jaime of his duties. How Tywin Lannister had wangled it was a mystery to both Jaime and Brienne. Either way, neither Jaime nor Brienne was willing to wait any longer to be wed.

“Sorry, Father, I had some business to attend to,” Jaime said and gave Brienne such a heated glance that Brienne felt heat rush between her thighs. She was excited for Jaime to show her Casterly Rock but a trip to their bedroom might be required first.

“There is food waiting for you inside,” Tywin said with a fond look at his son. Brienne had heard that Tywin Lannister was cold and calculating but she supposed he had finally got what he had always wanted: his heir to claim his birthright. The thought was an uncomfortable one for Brienne. She had never expected to be Lady of Casterly Rock, even back when she was bedding Jaime in Winterfell. She had never expected to be lady of anything but Tarth, which was a much more pleasant prospect than this. Although, with Jaime by her side, Brienne supposed that it would not be so bad.

Jaime reached for Brienne’s hand as they entered the foreboding fortress that towered far above them. It was difficult to imagine anything but fear here. It was certainly not where she wanted her children to grow up. She wanted them to be like her, jumping from cliffs into the turquoise oceans and running through sand dunes and going sailing. A twinge blossomed in her chest. Perhaps Tywin Lannister would live long enough for Jaime and Brienne to spend a few years in Tarth, not ruling over the Westerlands.

They ate in the large dining hall, at the top table. Jaime sat beside his father and allowed Brienne a seat beside him. There was nobody else in the hall. It seemed very silly to eat in there at all. Surely there was a smaller room for the three of them. “So, Jaime,” Tywin started and Brienne saw the coldness in his piercing blue eyes. She grappled for Jaime’s hand under the table and he took it without looking at her. “Are you going to explain why you were suddenly ready to leave the Kingsguard after so many years of refusing me?”

Jaime glanced at Brienne. They were both sure that Tywin was going to guess as soon as he saw them together. “We got married five nights ago, Father,” Jaime said, bringing their interlaced hands above the table.

Tywin’s lips twitched into as much of a smile as Brienne expected from him. “I suppose at least she is a lady, though you could have done better than a small holding like Tarth. It will strengthen our hold in the Stormlands.” Brienne felt a surge of anger in her heart at the cold way with which he discussed her people. 

Jaime gave his father a cold smile that reminded Brienne too much of the way that Cersei looked when she held court. She was not fond of the way Jaime was around his family, other than Tyrion. “I married Brienne because I am in love with her, Father.”

Tywin nodded as though the information was irrelevant. Brienne wondered how her father would react if she were to tell him that the future Lord of Casterly Rock was in love with her. Excitement bubbled in her stomach. Perhaps she would convince Jaime to visit Tarth sooner rather than later. “Good. Children will come soon.”

Jaime squeezed Brienne’s hand. Her excitement was replaced by nerves. The prospect of children was welcome, though daunting, and she knew that the pressure from Tywin Lannister and indeed from her father would be great.

They ate their food in relative silence after that. “What do you want to do this afternoon?” Jaime asked her, turning his back to his father. Brienne shook her head but her lips twitched. She wanted to fuck Jaime. She raised her eyebrows. Jaime wiped his mouth to hide his smirk. Then she opened her mouth and closed it again, a sudden thought occurring to her. “What?” Jaime asked.

Brienne shrugged. “Is there anywhere we can go cliff-jumping?”

When Jaime grinned, Brienne remembered exactly why she married this wonderful man.

XXX

“Just take off all of your clothes,” Jaime encouraged, leaning back on his elbows as he watched his wife glance around the area, self-conscious in her smalls.

“I will not.”

“Then I’ll take them off you when we’re in the ocean,” he said, leaning back to catch some rays on his face. He almost expected the piece of clothing that hit him in the face. “Come on, Brienne, I would love to see you jump naked from this cliff. Then you’ll be ready for me to fuck you when we’re down there.”

Jaime jumped up when she threw another piece of clothing at him, laughing. He approached her and wrapped his arms around her waist. She squirmed away. “What are you doing?” Jaime asked, amused.

“You’re naked,” she said distastefully. Jaime barked in laughter.

“I hate to inform you, sweetling, but I’ve been closer to you naked than this before,” he teased her. She blushed and stood awkwardly. Jaime rolled his eyes. “Brienne, take your smalls off or don’t. I’m going to fuck you in the sea either way. I’ve been dreaming of this since we left King’s Landing.”

When they jumped a few moments later, they were both entirely naked. Brienne laughed out loud as they jumped and Jaime screamed. He had not done this in a while. Somehow, it had not seemed like such an insane thing to do when he was younger.

They landed a few feet apart, their heads bobbing back up from underneath the water. Brienne was grinning, her eyes sparkling like the sea. Jaime brushed back the hair from his face, wishing his was braided like his wife’s. He panted with the effort of forcing breath back into his lungs. Perhaps he was getting old. Brienne swam over to him and wrapped her arms around his neck.

“Struggling, husband?” she teased. Jaime scowled at her and she kissed him. Jaime had to push her off after a few seconds. His breath was still not steady. “What happened to fucking me the second we got down here?”

“I think I’m getting old,” Jaime whined.

Brienne pursed her lips. “Don’t be ridiculous. You’re two-and-thirty.”

“I can’t believe you actually jumped naked,” Jaime said, grinning. He had not expected to actually be able to convince her. “You’re going to regret that when we’re climbing back up.”

Brienne only laughed, her eyes still dancing with wild joy. She was a mad woman. Jaime pressed a kiss to her lips and then moved his arms from her waist to her arse. She wrapped her legs around his waist, feeling weightless in the water. He’d never fucked anyone in the ocean before. If he had his way, this would become a more frequent thing, whether they lived in Casterly Rock or on Tarth. Though, perhaps, he would reach the ocean by a less heart-racing means. In a few years, a jump like that might finish him off.

“Did you ever think you’d be doing this when you were cliff-jumping on Tarth?” Jaime asked, pressing kisses to her neck. Brienne snorted and shook her head. “Good. I have no expectations to fulfil. Hopefully I won’t drown us.”

“You’d better not,” Brienne laughed. “I’ll leave you here.”

Jaime gasped dramatically as he reached down between them and danced his fingers lightly over her clit. “You would never.” Brienne moaned and Jaime thought that rather proved his point.

XXX

“How long do you want to stay here for?” Brienne asked, her head lying on Jaime’s chest. After a rather satisfying if clumsy fuck in the ocean, they had swum over to a nearby cove and lain down on the sand together.

“Few hours,” Jaime said, lazily playing with some of the hairs that had escaped from her braid. Brienne tapped his stomach.

“I mean Casterly Rock.”

“Oh,” Jaime said, scooching up on his elbows. Brienne turned over, disgruntled at him jerking her from her comfortable position. She could see him very well from this position, though, which made her revise her opinion on the matter. He was a rather wonderful specimen of man. “Are you quite finished checking me out, wife?” Jaime asked, smirking at her.

“No,” Brienne replied honestly, leaning forward to press a kiss to his nipple. “But go on. How long do you want to stay here?”

“A week, perhaps?” Jaime suggested. “We can go to Lannisport and there’s some other sweet villages we can visit. We don’t have to spend all week with my father.”

“Perfect,” Brienne agreed, placing another open-mouthed kiss on his chest, over where she thought his heart was. She shuffled lower as she continued kissing in a line down, keeping eye contact with him. His smirk had turned positively lascivious. Brienne was sure he knew what she was planning to do. Even so, his groan was pleasantly surprised when she took his cock into her mouth.

XXX

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is short I don't care
> 
> two more additions of this coming in prompt 29 and 30 but prompt 28 is the second to last Teachers AU!!
> 
> Hopefully will write that tonight


	28. Christmas Outings: Teachers AU Part 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime and Brienne head out and run into a few familiar faces

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those that are not UKish, Costa is a coffee shop a bit like Starbucks but more old people and business people focussed and Tesco is a supermarket

“Morning,” Jaime said, handing Brienne a coffee. It was her kitchen but he had learned to use her coffee machine two weeks or so ago, the first time he had stayed there. Brienne gave him a smile, clutching the cup of coffee to her lips. “Do you want breakfast?”

“Mm, what are you offering?” she asked, flicking her eyes from the coffee to him. Jaime smiled and reached to open her fridge.

“Scrambled eggs on toast?”

Brienne furrowed her brow. “Do I have bread?”

Jaime glanced at the bread bin and shook his head. They could hardly just have scrambled eggs. Jaime shrugged. “Drink that and then go and get dressed and we’ll walk to Costa.”

Brienne grinned. “Okay.”

XXX

Costa was quite busy, given that it was only eleven o clock. It was the school holidays, though, and there was always an excuse needed to get out of the house, meaning the coffee shop was filled with more families than businessmen, despite its usual clientele. Brienne unpacked their laptops while Jaime got in the line at the till to order, choosing a spot in the corner away from the noisiest families. Thankfully, being teachers, they were quite used to tuning children’s screaming out.

“Can I get you something, sir?” the girl at the till asked, her lips pursed, as Jaime saw when he dragged his eyes from Brienne. Jaime gave her an apologetic smile and glanced up at the boards above her head.

“Yes, a flat white, please, and, for me… erm, a, yeah, a second flat white please,” Jaime said, meeting the girl’s less-than-pleased eyes at his hesitance. Jaime fumbled with the sandwiches in his hands, depositing them in front of the girl. “These too, please.”

The girl nodded and carried away the sandwiches to heat up. Jaime pulled out his wallet, glancing over again at his girlfriend, who had opened both of their laptops opposite each other on one of the high tables with stools. Jaime smiled. It was quite sad but he liked when he could press his laptop up against hers and distract her, likely a remnant of when he could not actually touch her, before he asked her out.

Jaime smiled to himself and then at the girl when she returned for him to pay. Five or so minutes later, Jaime was carrying a tray over to the table. Brienne shuffled her laptop over to fit her plate and coffee and Jaime did the same, depositing the tray on the next empty table. “What are you going to do?” Jaime asked, nodding at Brienne’s laptop.

Brienne sipped her coffee and then said, “Topic planning for Spring Term.”

Jaime grinned. “Fun. I might do the same.”

“Aren’t we romantic?” Brienne teased. Jaime chuckled. Brienne took a bite from her sandwich and then furrowed her brow. “What are you doing for New Year’s Eve?”

Jaime raised his brows. “I’m not sure. Tyrion and Sansa always have a party so I might go there at midnight. Did you have plans?” Brienne shook her head. Jaime smiled. “Come with me then?”

Brienne squirmed uncomfortably. “Will they be okay with that?”

Jaime laughed, remembering Sansa and Tyrion’s approval of Brienne. “I am sure they will be. I will double check,” he added to ease Brienne’s anxiety, “but they adore you and they know that I ad- that I am very fond of you.” Brienne ducked her head to hide her smile at Jaime’s stumbling over words. Jaime smiled wryly at himself. “And you can kiss me at midnight.”

Brienne smiled. “I’ve never had a New Year’s Kiss before,” she confessed. Jaime reached under the table to take her hand.

“Me neither.”

XXX

Two hours later, their coffee cups and plates had been cleared and they were still working, talking every so often about words on the tip of their tongues or activity ideas. It was actually quite helpful planning with another teacher, Brienne considered. Perhaps they should do it more often. It was a wonderful way to spend time together and also be productive.

“Hey, Brienne,” Jaime said, bumping her laptop with his. Brienne looked up and smiled at his smile. “I’m going to get another coffee. Do you want anything?”

Brienne hummed. “Yes, can you get me a peach iced tea please?” she requested, reaching down for her handbag to give him her card to pay.

“Iced?” Jaime said with a disgusted look. “It’s the 28th December you animal.” Brienne’s laugh burst from her throat at his insult. “And I don’t want your card.”

Brienne thrust it into his palm even so. “You bought the last ones, you silly man.” Jaime pursed his lips but took the card. It was their agreement, to avoid arguments. Jaime was very silly over wanting to pay for everything.

“See you in a minute.”

Brienne turned back to her planning, widening a column so that the text fit more aptly. She only looked up again as a breeze spiralled into the café, heralding the entrance of more customers. And, unfortunately, Brienne knew these customers.

Going to a coffee shop near to the school you worked at was always a bad move, Brienne thought as she ducked behind her laptop. She and Jaime should have known better. Gracie Mitchell and Aliyah Kelly, along with Gracie’s mother, had just entered. The two girls were in Brienne’s class and were chatty to say the least. Gracie’s mother was also well-known as being the playground gossip. She had a lot of things to say about Brienne and Jaime. Her catching them here on a date would be just perfect.

But there was no chance of escape, as Mrs Mitchell joined the queue behind Jaime, the two girls discussing the glitter makeup they had received for Christmas. Mrs Mitchell recognised Jaime immediately and greeted him with the large, indulgent smile that all the mothers had for Jaime’s handsome, previously single face. Brienne supposed that to a lot of them, the idea that they would fall in love with their child’s classroom teacher was like something out of a Hallmark Christmas movie. Brienne scowled.

Jaime’s smile was fake, Brienne was sure, though it turned slightly genuine as he conversed with the two girls, right up until the point where he ordered their two drinks. Brienne heard Mrs Mitchell say, “oh, two drinks, Mister Lannister?” Brienne could practically see her batting her big false eyelashes.

“Yes, I’m here on a date,” Jaime replied and Brienne felt like launching his laptop through the café. Brienne busied herself with her laptop when she noticed Mrs Mitchell begin to look around.

“With Miss Tarth?” Mrs Mitchell said and the surprise in her voice hit the part of Brienne that remembered the names she had been called at high school. Brienne swallowed and tried to focus on the water cycle.

“Yes, she’s my girlfriend.”

Brienne’s lips twitched at Jaime’s bold statement. Mrs Mitchell did not have the chance to respond as she had to begin ordering. Jaime’s drinks were made and he speedily arrived with Brienne, who greeted him with a kiss. “I adore you,” she said boldly, grinning at him. Jaime kissed her again and handed her the cold drink. “Even more so for this.”

Jaime rolled his eyes and kissed her one final time before sitting down. They could hear Gracie and Aliyah’s giggles from the counter. Brienne bit her lip, looking down at her planning. Jaime Lannister, her boyfriend.

XXX

“Shall we go home?” Jaime suggested at about two o'clock, after they had both had a second Costa sandwich. Brienne looked up. She had finished her topic planning only about half an hour ago and had started on some data analysis. She was fed up of the sight of her laptop. Nodding, she shut it down and folded it.

“I could do with getting some food in,” Brienne grouched, remembering her empty fridge and the takeaways that she and Jaime had been living on. Jaime nodded.

“Let’s go to the shop on the way home.”

At Tesco, pushing the shopping trolley, Jaime next to her holding the quick list she had made in the car, Brienne felt very domestic. She felt a longing for the future she could see, when they lived together. It all seemed so tangible.

“We should get this,” Jaime said with a serious tone, holding up a box of cake mix. Brienne rolled her eyes.

“Why?”

“We could make a cake for Sansa and Tyrion’s party. Everyone will think we’re domestic goddesses and no one will know it’s from a packet.”

“Domestic goddesses?” Brienne repeated. Jaime nodded with a grin. He reached up and kissed her quickly. Brienne flushed and just hurried him to put the cake mix in the trolley. They had barely reached the next aisle when they were interrupted in their bickering about the best brand of butter (Jaime always bought the best branded stuff whereas Brienne couldn’t see the difference so just bought the cheapest).

“Jaime, Brienne!”

Catelyn Stark looked the most relaxed that Brienne had seen her, beside a man that Brienne recognised as her husband, who was pushing a trolley.

“Catelyn,” Jaime greeted evenly, while Brienne privately panicked at being caught with Jaime, even though Catelyn was aware of their relationship. “We were just discussing Sansa’s New Year’s party. You’ll be there?”

“Of course,” Catelyn said, smiling. Her husband was quiet beside her, as Brienne was beside Jaime. “How are you both? Are you having a good break?”

“Very good, thank you,” Jaime answered for both of them. Brienne nodded with a small smile. “We have spent all morning planning but we are having some relaxation too.” Jaime’s tone was far too heated for Brienne’s liking. She shot a glare at him and he only snickered. “Anyway, we will see you on New Year’s Eve!”

With a few goodbyes, they left the elder couple to continue with their shopping. Brienne poked Jaime in the side and said, “that was so embarrassing. I cannot believe you just said that, Jaime Lannister.”

“Oh, shush, I meant no harm.” Brienne had to smile when he wrapped an arm around her waist. Whatever trouble he brought with him, there was no better feeling than being in Jaime’s arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so the next three prompts are: two back in time prompts and one final teachers AU!! Hopefully they'll all be up before the third.
> 
> Thank you so so much for reading these little fics of mine!! I love hearing your feedback and how much you want more! Remember that if you ever want a continuation, just let me know and I'll probably do it.
> 
> Have a great New Year's Eve!


	29. Back in Time Part 4

The journey back to King’s Landing was far less enjoyable than the journey there, likely due to the impending arrival back at court, with the gossip and scheming that that entailed, while their previous journey had only sex at the other end. Even so, they made good pace and made as few stops as possible, remembering the important work they had to do in King’s Landing, the work that had given them a second chance.

And what a second chance it was. Jaime did not know what he had done that was so revered by the Seven that he was given this blessing. He had done very few good things in his previous life. Whatever it was, Jaime was unendingly grateful. He was married to a woman he loved with his whole heart, a woman who made him a better person with every second they spent together.

Now they were returning to King’s Landing, to find what Tyrion had accomplished in their absence. Jaime was well aware they were returning to cruelty in court and undeniable anger from Cersei. It was not a pleasant prospect and, as they grew closer, he could feel Brienne tensing in anticipation. They were only hours away now and not days as they had been.

Jaime glanced at his wife. She did look the picture of a knight on her horse. Jaime had found some armour at Casterly Rock and had it adjusted for her so that she could look like his lady knight, like she had at Winterfell. Brienne had appreciated the gesture very much. Jaime wished he could do more, could shield her from the terrible things people would say in court, from whatever Cersei was already planning.

Jaime knew that his sister was only a few moon turns away from murdering her husband, the King of the Seven Kingdoms. She would likely think little of murdering Jaime’s wife, who she would think had spurred Jaime on to begin rejecting her. Jaime’s stomach squirmed at the possibility. He wasn’t sure what to do about it, whether employing guards and a taster for Brienne’s food would draw unwanted attention to who Jaime was protecting her from. And, with Jon Arryn so close to discovering Jaime’s secret, that was not something they needed.

Shaking his head, Jaime focussed on the road before him and the horse beneath him. He’d allow himself a few hours of peace before being thrust back into the cesspit that was King’s Landing.

XXX

Tyrion greeted them at the entrance to the Red Keep. His grave face spurred Jaime to jump down from his horse and approach him alone, Brienne not far behind. “Lady Lysa and Littlefinger are dead,” Tyrion said lowly. Jaime closed his eyes. He heard Brienne inhale sharply behind him.

“What happened?” Jaime asked. He turned to give his manservant a nod to ensure he took their horses and belongings to where they should be. Tyrion led them into the Red Keep. He looked older than when they had left, though Jaime hoped it was just the beard he had grown rather than the stress that Jaime had laid upon him.

Tyrion only shook his head. He didn’t continue speaking until they had reached Jaime and Brienne’s chambers and the three were sitting in front of the empty fire. “Jon Arryn realised that his wife was plotting to kill him.”

Jaime and Brienne shared a look. Neither knew whether that had changed in this timeline or if he had known in the last timeline but had been unable to stop it. “What did he do?” Jaime was surprised that Arryn had taken such drastic measures against his wife. He imagined that the Hand would have had her arrested and imprisoned, perhaps sent to the Silent Sisters.

“They were arrested, Lysa and Littlefinger. They found them dead the next day. It looks like Lysa killed Littlefinger and then finished herself off,” Tyrion said grimly. Jaime felt his throat burn with revulsion. Lysa Tully had never been entirely together in the head but this was new levels of madness. Jaime found Tyrion looking at him as though he wanted to say more. Jaime nodded forcefully, his brow furrowed. “He- Jaime, he already knew about the children.” Tyrion said it apologetically, with a sigh. None of that made it better.

Jaime’s head fell into his hands. He felt Brienne’s hand move to his leg. Jaime swallowed and looked up, taking Brienne’s hand in his. Despite it all, he could not regret leaving and marrying Brienne. She was all he wanted. He interlaced their fingers, enjoying the soothing way their callouses rubbed together.

“What are you going to do?” Tyrion asked, uncharacteristically grave. Jaime sighed. He just wanted to curl up in bed with his wife. He brushed his thumb across the piece of skin between Brienne’s forefinger and thumb.

“Go and see Arryn, I suppose,” Jaime said, not taking his eyes from the rough skin of Brienne’s hands and his fingers, more tanned, poking between hers. “We have to protect the children.”

Tyrion left soon after that, telling them that they looked well and welcoming Brienne to their family by calling her sister. Jaime collapsed into Brienne’s arms, burying his face in her breasts and circling his arms around her waist so that he was clinging to her. She threaded her fingers in his hair and held tight, anchoring him.

“Let’s go to bed,” Brienne whispered. “We’ll fix all of this in the morning.”

It was barely evening but Jaime was only too happy to follow his wife to bed and lie in her arms. They’d fix the world in the morning.

XXX

Jon Arryn was not surprised to see Jaime, though his face did register surprise at Brienne’s appearance. “This must be the new Lady Lannister,” he said, inclining his head towards Brienne. “I was surprised to hear you had left the Kingsguard to get married, Ser Jaime, given that Kingsguards serve for life.”

His words were not a surprise to Jaime, nor was the judgmental tone that accompanied them. Jaime’s father had ensured that Jaime’s Kingsguard dismissal was honourable and that it was made clear that he was doing it for love. Brienne found the notion of the court gossips talking about their great love affair very amusing. Jaime reminded her that it was a great love affair and she had sent a huge splash of water towards him. Jaime’s heart yearned to be back at Casterly Rock, doing nothing but relax with his wife.

“Love makes fools of us all, Lord Arryn,” Jaime said with a sardonic smile. Brienne pursed her lips. “I think we need to talk.”

“Do we?” Arryn said, quirking an eyebrow. Jaime scowled.

“The children are innocent.” Arryn said nothing. Jaime fumbled for Brienne’s hand under the desk, needing her security. “The- Tommen and Myrcella are innocent. They do not deserve their heads on pikes.”

“No,” Arryn finally agreed with a nod. “You are quite right. The children should not have to suffer for the sins of their father.” He met Jaime’s eyes and Jaime felt the full force of his revulsion.

“If Robert knew, he would kill them.” Arryn nodded again. “I am laying my life before you here, Lord Arryn. I am trusting you. What would you do in my position?”

Arryn levelled him with a stare that reminded Jaime that he was certainly not liked by this man. Brienne was squeezing his hand very tightly. Jaime knew that she was taut with tension, ready to jump up and protect him at any moment. That morning, she had suggested that they get Tommen and Myrcella and run away to Essos and screw the rest. Jaime had reminded her about Sansa and their need to protect her. Even that had not entirely dimmed her want to go.

It was a decent back-up plan.

“To protect the children, you will take them to Casterly Rock. Robert will divorce Cersei and send her to be a silent sister and disown the children. He will need to remarry but I do not see that being a problem”

Jaime furrowed his brow, considering each element of the plan. “And me? Robert will surely kill me for this.”

Arryn shook his head. “It’s in Robert’s best interest for this not to come out. It would unman him in the eyes of the Kingdom and it would almost certainly take your father’s money away from the crown. No, I will convince Robert that the children should be disowned and Cersei cast out. There will be rumours but we will do our best to keep it under our hats.”

Jaime parted his lips involuntarily. This all seemed wrong. Jon Arryn was such an honourable man that he was willing to protect the children, even to the extent that Jaime went free too. “You are certain that Robert will not harm the children?” Jaime ascertained, holding onto his wife’s hand for dear life, grateful that Arryn could not see the tension in their hands under the table. Brienne’s breathing was unsteady next to him. He was sure she too could not believe it.

“I swear it,” Arryn said solemnly of the children’s safety. A lump grew in Jaime’s throat as he thought of the children. He could only nod at the Hand and close his eyes against the tears welling in his eyes. How long had he lived in fear of this discovery? He had just been such a bitter, sinful man that he had not imagined such an honourable man that would put the lives of two innocent children before the justice system. Jaime wondered if things would be different if he had not married Brienne, whether Arryn would have trusted him to take the children quietly if he had not left Cersei.

He supposed he’d never know. He could spend his life wondering that, especially now that he’d been given this gift of a second chance from the Gods. Opening his eyes, Jaime found Brienne staring at him. He smiled softly and nodded. They had their lives to live.

XXX

“Jaime,” Brienne groaned when he tossed over yet again. Every time Brienne got close to sleep, her irritating husband would turn over and disrupt her.

“I’m sorry,” Jaime whispered. Brienne turned to him and cupped his face in her hands. He was growing his beard, something Brienne approved of mightily, and the stubble scratching her hands.

“What is wrong?” Brienne asked, meeting his green eyes. Even in the dark, she could see that his entire face was downcast. He sighed and shrugged out of her hold, sitting up and shifting away from her.

Brienne waited for him to speak. Jaime hesitated and then looked at her reluctantly. “I don’t want to upset you.” Brienne blinked and almost immediately shook her head.

“No, tell me,” she said, her voice shaking ever so slightly. He was sitting up in bed beside her. She wondered briefly if this was what he had looked like as he had been about to leave her at Winterfell. With a swallow, she rid herself of that thought. She trusted her husband. “Jaime, you can tell me anything.”

“What Cersei and I did was wrong,” Jaime said bluntly. Brienne didn’t dare move. They had had conversations like this before, of course, but his bringing it up again suggested that he had something new to say. “I know that what we did was wrong and I understand that we should both be punished.” Brienne furrowed her brow, shifting closer to him, unsure why. Perhaps she was readying herself to stop him leaving, catch him by the wrist and force him to stay with her.

“Jaime,” Brienne said but Jaime shook his head.

“I can’t stop thinking about how much this is going to hurt her,” Jaime said and Brienne’s heart broke as a sob tore from his throat. She moved even closer and wrapped her arms around his waist, holding his head into her shoulder.

“It’s okay to be sad, Jaime,” Brienne murmured soothingly, hating the sound of his sobs. His love for Cersei could never just disappear. Brienne had made her peace with that, truly. She hated her with all of her soul for everything she had done to Jaime, to the realm in general truly, but she would always be a part of Jaime. And, as his wife, Brienne had to care for that part of his life too. “She- it’s okay to be sad.”

Jaime tore his head from her shoulder and looked her in the eye. His eyes glimmered with the tears that had wet her sleep shirt, one of his anyway. “I love you,” he said, rather intensely. Brienne could never keep her smile in when he said that. “You know that this doesn’t change how I feel about you.”

“I know,” Brienne said softly, brushing her hand through his hair. She pressed the side of her head softly to his forehead. “I love you, Jaime.”

Jaime sighed and pressed his face back into her shoulder. “How am I going to tell her?” he asked, the sound muffled against fabric. Brienne didn’t answer. She wasn’t sure if he expected an answer and she definitely did not have one to give.

XXX

It was the middle of the night, the full moon in the sky over the keep at Winterfell, when the raven arrived. Maester Luwin left them with the missive. Ned tore the scroll from Catelyn’s hands when he saw the ominous seal of Jon Arryn. They had been expecting this scroll for a few days now, to give the news of Arryn’s death, just as it had been in the past.

Catelyn fell to the floor when Ned told her, reaching out behind her for the bedframe which was too far. Her whole body seemed to collapse into itself. “Lysa dead?”

Ned nodded gravely, kindness shining in his eyes. “Suicide after killing Petyr Baelish.” A broken gasp came from Catelyn’s mouth. At least Ned had not masked the truth. Her sister not only dead but a murderer of their childhood friend. From the school, Ned read the full story, as Jon had written it. It was an unfeeling letter but Catelyn could not blame the man. Lysa had been trying to kill him. And now he was alive when he shouldn’t be and Lysa was dead when she should not be.

“I knew that she was unstable,” Catelyn said, a tremor in her voice, “but murder? Suicide?” Catelyn closed her eyes, tears squeezing out from the edges. “Does he say anything else?” Catelyn asked with a dull voice.

Ned hesitated and Catelyn opened her eyes again. “Jaime Lannister is married.”

A feeling of dread unfurled in Catelyn’s chest. “Who to?” she asked urgently. Ned shrugged.

“Lady Brienne of Tarth, not that means much to me-” Catelyn’s gasp cut Ned off. She shook her head hurriedly, standing and snatching the letter from Ned. She read the detail at the end of the letter herself, just one sentence mentioning that Jaime Lannister, the Kingslayer, had left the Kingsguard and married a young nobody from Tarth.

“Ned, Ned, it’s not just us.”

Catelyn and Ned had been dealing with their sudden return from the dead for a few months, had been making plans with the idea that they were here alone, burdened with very few details of the past.

“Who else? Jaime Lannister?” Catelyn heard every ounce of hatred in her husband’s voice. She nodded, worrying her bottom lip. “How do you know, Cat?” he growled.

Catelyn sighed. “They should not have met yet. Brienne- she was my sworn sword. She is a phenomenal fighter. When Robb refused to trade the Kingslayer for the girls,” Catelyn said, slightly reluctantly, “I freed him and sent him to King’s Landing, with Brienne as his captor.”

Ned’s face was severe. “And you are sure they had never met?” Catelyn nodded again. “Then this must be their work. She must have betrayed you in the last life, Cat, if she has married him now, and she has betrayed you in this life too. It must be their fault that Lysa is dead.”

Catelyn did not want to believe that. She remembered the homely girl she had met, so honourable and sure in her abilities. She had trusted her with her life. The thought that she had married Jaime Lannister repulsed Catelyn. “We’ll have to go, Ned,” Catelyn said. Ned nodded. There was no other option. “We’ll take the children too, leave on the morrow.”

“To King’s Landing,” Ned said, his mouth in a grim line. With a final bitter sigh, Catelyn slumped.


	30. Back in Time part 5

“Why are they coming?” Brienne asked, pacing desperately in the chambers that she and Jaime shared. Jaime sighed, slumped against the end of their bed frame.

“I don’t know, sweetling. Can we go to bed? I’m exhausted,” Jaime complained. Brienne shot him a glare and he put his hands up. “Come here.” Brienne looked reluctant but Jaime just stared at her until she approached. Jaime wrapped his arms around her waist and sighed contently as he buried his face in her chest. She smelled of sweat. Jaime kissed the skin that was exposed by the undone laces on her shirt.

“What if-”

“We’ll find out when they arrive tomorrow, Brienne,” Jaime interrupted her. For the past four days, since they had found out that Lord and Lady Stark were on their way to Winterfell, Brienne had been worrying about this. Only fucking or fighting could distract her. Brienne’s main theory was that the Starks had come back in time too. Jaime personally just thought that Catelyn Stark was coming to pay respects to her dead sister, even though it had been weeks since the quiet funeral for the disgraced Lady Lysa Arryn.

Jaime felt Brienne nod against his head. He smiled and pulled away from her breasts. “Now, can we either fuck or sleep?” Brienne scoffed in surprise at his comment, making Jaime grin. She pursed her lips and pulled away from him. Jaime followed her eagerly.

XXX

It wasn’t very many hours later that Jaime and Brienne were awoken, eyes blinking blearily into the darkness as their minds began to comprehend what had woken them: knocking at their door. Brienne groaned. Jaime’s lips twitched. She was so grumpy when her sleep was interrupted. Jaime pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“I’ll sort it. It’s probably just Tyrion, pissed.”

Brienne closed her eyes and gave him a sleepy smile before turning over. Jaime slipped out of bed and picked up his breeches, discarded lazily a few hours previously. When they were on, he made his way to the door, where the incessant knocking had increased in volume. “What is it-” Jaime cut himself off upon seeing who was at the door. It was not Tyrion at all.

It was the Starks.

Catelyn Stark barged past him without any remorse. Ned then did the same, following his wife into Jaime’s chambers. Jaime blinked, glanced out of the door and then closed it, rubbing his eyes with a hand.

“Did you know each other before?” Catelyn hissed. Jaime saw, in the corner of his eye, Brienne sit up sharply, somehow managing to keep the duvet up, covering her naked chest.

Jaime sighed. Clearly Brienne had been right. He picked a shirt up from the floor and pulled it onto his body, not answering Catelyn who was literally tapping her foot at him. Jaime found a second shirt and glanced down at it, squinting in the darkness, before looking at the shirt he’d put on, now fairly certain it was Brienne’s. He shrugged to himself and chucked the shirt in his hands at Brienne. “So, I’m assuming you are also from the future,” Jaime said, though he did not look at them, preoccupied with searching for a firelighter for the candles. Jaime chuckled. “Although, let’s be honest, Lord Stark, you’re not from very far into the future.”

Ned Stark growled at him just as Jaime found something to light the candles with. When he did so, he found Brienne with the shirt in her hand, still staring at Ned and Catelyn. “Brienne, clothes,” Jaime said, snapping his fingers in front of her face, half bent down to light another candle. Brienne nodded, still distracted and then, because she was just amazing in all ways, somehow managed to pull a shirt on without showing her breasts to Ned and Catelyn.

“Are you going to answer my question, Lannister?” Catelyn asked, the same anger in her voice as the last time they had spoken, as Jaime found a pair of breeches for Brienne and threw them at her.

“We did not know each other when we met, no,” Jaime said, finally settling down on the chaise longue. “Are you going to sit down?” he said, gesturing to the two armchairs by the fire. “I imagine we’re going to be here for some time.”

Catelyn sat down first, not ceasing in her questioning. “You mean to tell me that you somehow fell in love while she was your captor?” Catelyn scoffed, her eyes narrowed.

Jaime smiled as Brienne finally found her way to his side, her face still very confused by this turn of events, despite the fact she had predicted it. “You don’t know how much further in history we are from,” Jaime said with a waggle of his eyebrows. “It took some time.” Brienne snorted. Jaime scowled at her.

“How much further are you from?” Ned Stark asked, leaning his hands on the back of the armchair rather than just sitting down like a normal human being.

Jaime was not actually entirely sure. He shrugged. “Maybe three years after Catelyn’s death.”

Brienne shook her head. “Three and a half.”

Jaime rolled his eyes. “Okay, three and a half.” Catelyn looked between them curiously.

“What happened to my sister?” Catelyn asked. Her jaw was set. Jaime felt a pang of guilt for not being here to ensure that nothing terrible happened, not that he truly saw Lysa Arryn and Littlefinger as losses to the world. But Catelyn had been murdered, after watching her son and gooddaughter die too, and she had got a second chance and lost her sister before even reuniting with her. That did seem quite cruel.

Jaime hesitated and Brienne filled in the gap. “We weren’t here. We went to get married.” She said it as though she was daring them to judge them for it. Jaime grinned at her.

“Dear Gods, you really are in love,” Catelyn said and Jaime and Brienne whirled around. Catelyn sounded shocked, her eyes were wide watching them.

“What did you think when we got married?” Jaime asked with amusement. Catelyn just shook her head.

“I just- when you met, you-”

“Yes, well,” Jaime interrupted, scratching the back of his head. Brienne looked at him, her lips twitching. Jaime well remembered what he had said to Brienne when they had met, regretted those words now, regretted the person he had been then. “Things changed. There were some incidents.” Brienne snorted. Jaime grabbed her hand impulsively and rubbed his thumb over her calloused palm.

“And when did you decide to stop fucking your sister?” Ned Stark said in that deep gravelly voice. Jaime groaned.

“Gods, I remember why I hated you,” he said. Brienne hit him immediately, a hard poke to the stomach that made him turn to her and frown. “What? He’s a prick,” Jaime said defensively. “You have to be on my side. You’re my wife. This is what you signed up for.”

“I did not sign up for this, whatsoever,” Brienne retorted and she gave the bed a longing look. Jaime could have pretended she was looking at it, thinking of sex, but he knew well that she just wanted to go to bed and deal with Ned and Catelyn in the morning. Jaime chuckled through his nose. 

“Right, let’s get on with this,” Jaime said, losing the smile. “I assume you’ve heard that Cersei has been sent to be a silent sister.”

Jaime had not heard a word from his sister since he told her what was going to happen. She had raged and raged, screamed how unfair it all was, tried to take him down with her. None of it had worked. Jaime had kept up his poker face and then they had essentially dragged her away. Jaime had hated every second of it. The second she was gone, he had cried and cried and cried.

“And the three children are at Casterly Rock, yes,” Ned said, giving Jaime a dirty look that Jaime ignored. “How did you get away scot-free, Lannister?”

Jaime swallowed. Brienne rubbed their palms together and Jaime smiled at the sensation. He’d been asking himself Ned’s question since his meeting with Jon Arryn. Originally he had thought it fair, because Cersei had done some terrible things. But, at this point, before she had even killed Robert, what had she done that was so terrible? Yes, Jaime was sure that she had killed people but so had he. So had Robert, so had most people in court. That was nothing on the grand scale of things.

Jaime had thought about it and thought about it and realised that Cersei’s crime was being a woman. The king could have his affairs, the kingsguard could break their vows of chastity, any man could go to the whorehouse and not be judged. But the second a woman stepped out of place, the second a woman so much as looked at another man, she was condemned. And when that action was made by a queen? What Cersei had done was treason. It was the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms having an affair.

And Jaime had committed treason as well, of course he had. But he was a man and it was expected of a man to sleep with a woman, any woman. Yes, if things were different, and Arryn had not been so honourable to allow Jaime to protect the children, to claim the children as wards of House Lannister, if the crown was not so fucking reliant on the Lannister money, then Jaime would have been strung up. Cersei likely would have been killed too if it were not for the gold mines of Casterly Rock. Instead, because of Jaime’s male privilege and the wonder of being born a lion, Jaime had been let off essentially scot-free, as Ned said.

Jaime shook his head. Brienne looked at him with amusement. She had enjoyed his rant about how women could not get away with anything, even if it had included parts about Cersei. “Your pal Arryn is as honourable as you are.” Jaime didn’t say it as an insult, not anymore. Ned Stark only narrowed his eyes at him.

“And when are you going to join the children?” Ned asked. Jaime swallowed.

“After Robert’s wedding. My father thinks it prudent that someone from House Lannister be there.”

“And the future?” Catelyn demanded. 

Jaime closed his eyes against the rush of nerves that that question brought forth. He opened them as Brienne answered, “we’re going to do our best but there is only so much that can be done.”

“You have to tell us what happened then we can work together.” Ned nodded along with his wife’s statement. Jaime and Brienne shared a look and then they began to speak, sharing the story between them. They told a story similar to the one that they had told Tyrion, though they said little of their children’s trials. Brienne mentionned none of the rape that Sansa had endured and only some of her marriage to Jaime’s brother, deciding between them that there were some things better of left in the past.

XXX

“With Cersei stopped, is that enough?” Lady Catelyn asked. Jaime shrugged. Brienne imagined that the thought that Cersei was the only thing wrong with the Seven Kingdoms was an uncomfortable thought for her husband. “If we make sure that Robert understands the threat of the dead, is that enough?” Lady Catelyn pressed.

Jaime and Brienne shared a helpless look. “Daenerys Targaryen is essentially an unknown quantity,” Brienne said carefully. “She could be cruel and she could be kind. She- well, we were sent back before we knew whether she defeated Cersei or not and whether or not she was a good queen.”

The Starks shared a look, exchanging words with their eyes as only a long-married couple could. “So, Daenerys Targaryen and the dead above the wall,” Lord Stark said grimly. “What else?”

“In a few years, a wildling army will mass that Stannis would subdue,” Brienne said as she considered slowly what things would change without Joffrey on the throne, without the War of the Five Kings. “Without Stannis, the men at the wall will be slaughtered. Your son, Lord Stark, did his best to fight it but failed.”

“Jon?” Lord Stark said and Brienne nodded. She had already explained about Jon becoming the Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch. Lord Stark inclined his head. “I will speak with Robert about sending troops to the Wall, perhaps on rotation, and, then, I suppose it will just be waiting for Robert to have a son.”

Brienne felt uneasy about that. Even if Robert provided an heir within the year, which was likely with Robert’s track record, Robert was not a healthy man. He would leave a child as an heir, ready to be manipulated by men. The kingdom needed a strong king, not a babe with a regent.

“There’s another option,” Brienne said quietly. It was not a betrayal of Sansa if she said this now, she decided. The Sansa that she knew was gone, never to return. And it was likely that Sansa would have shared this herself anyway, if she had been here to speak with her parents.

Lady Catelyn looked at Brienne shrewdly. “I thought we had decided that Daenerys was too much of a risk.”

Brienne nodded and looked into Lord Stark’s eyes. She had not even told Jaime this yet. “Lord Stark, we both know there is another option.”

“No,” Lord Stark snapped and she saw the anger on his face there. He knew what she knew. He looked at his wife and Brienne thought of the woman who had spent her whole marriage believing her husband to be unfaithful. Brienne looked away and found Jaime’s eyes on her, curious. She hoped he wouldn’t be angry that she hadn’t told him.

“Jon will grow up to be a good man,” Brienne said quietly.

“No,” he said again and this time he didn’t turn to his wife, though Brienne saw his face twitch as though he wanted to. “I swore to-”

“You swore to protect him,” Brienne cut him off, “not to keep him from his birthright.”

“He is a Stark,” Lord Stark said and his voice was filled with quiet anger, his eyes with warning.

“He is a Targaryen,” Brienne said and then looked at Lady Catelyn. “My lady, the boy you believe to be your husband’s bastard is truly his nephew.”

“How can you know this?” Lord Stark interrupted her, his eyebrows furrowed. “Was it Howland Reed?”

Brienne shook her head. “Your son, Bran, he sees things- saw things,” Brienne corrected, glancing at Jaime. Now that Jaime had not thrown him from a window, who knew where his life trajectory would lead?

“Sees things?” Lady Catelyn repeated, her mouth slightly agape. Her voice had a shrill tone to it, almost hysterical.

Brienne shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know entirely. Lady Sansa told me that he sees things in the past, anywhere in the present and sometimes in the future. She told me that he saw Jon born, saw your battle with Arthur Dayne, my lord,” Brienne said to Lord Stark, whose face blanched. “Jon told Lady Sansa and Lady Arya after Bran told him. Jon’s friend found the marriage certificate in the Citadel.”

“Whose marriage certificate?” Lady Catelyn demanded, looking at her husband. “Ned, what is she talking about?”

Lord Stark’s hands were shaking. Lady Catelyn grasped them. “Jon,” he said before clearing his throat. “Jon is Lyanna’s son, with Rhaegar.”

Lady Catelyn dropped Lord Stark’s hands. Brienne felt as though she were intruding on a private moment between husband and wife. She turned to Jaime and found him shocked. Nodding slightly, she remembered that Jaime had served Rhaegar, had likely believed him to be a rapist and kidnapper despite all the kindness he had seen. Perhaps she should have told him sooner.

“Lyanna was kidnapped,” Lady Catelyn protested, drawing Jaime and Brienne’s eyes back to her. Lord Stark shook his head. “She- she loved him?” Lord Stark’s nod confirmed it. Lady Catelyn closed her eyes, likely to hide her tears. “And Jon,” she said, before cutting herself off. “Oh, Ned,” she said and began to weep.

Brienne heard Jaime swallow beside her and found his eyes on his lap, clearly feeling like Brienne that they were part of something they shouldn't be.

“You want to put him on the throne?” Lady Catelyn asked Brienne, her voice thick with tears. Brienne’s eyes widened. The Jon she knew, the Jon who had accepted her as part of the Stark family without question, would have hated her for this. Her heart twinged with self-hatred.

“It is an option,” was all she said.

“It is the only option,” Jaime suddenly spoke up. Brienne whirled around to him. “Rhaegar was my prince. He was the heir to the Seven Kingdoms. He should have never been killed. He would have been a good king and his son should sit the throne.”

Brienne rarely saw Jaime quite so passionate as this. “He won’t thank us for it,” Brienne said, biting her lip. Lady Catelyn looked at Brienne curiously. “He hated all the power on him. When they made him King in the North, he hated it.”

“But he did it,” Jaime interrupted.

“And he gave it up the second he could,” Brienne protested.

Jaime scoffed. “He gave it up because he was sleeping with Daenerys. If she isn’t a problem, then that won’t be either.” Brienne heard Lord Stark’s sharp intake of breath at Jaime’s reveal. She had purposely left that part out of the story, knowing it would discomfit Lord Stark.

“Lady Sansa believed him the right man for the job,” Brienne told the Starks.

“Sansa did?” Lord Stark said with some amusement, glancing at Lady Catelyn who looked down at her lap. Brienne knew that Lady Catelyn had been harsh to her husband’s ‘bastard’ for most of his life. She was likely embarrassed now, or ashamed.

Brienne smiled. “Sansa and Jon adored each other, though I think each preferred Arya,” she shared. Lord Stark chuckled.

“I’m sure they did. I never would have believed that my children would get along so well. What happened to Bran and Rickon?”

Brienne had also left Rickon’s fate out of the story, believing it to be too cruel to share. She saw Lord Stark’s curiosity though and answered, “Bran went beyond the wall to learn how to control his power, with Meera and Jojen Reed who protected him. Rickon was taken with a wildling called Osha, to various Northern strongholds. One of them betrayed him,” Brienne said reluctantly. “He was given to the Bolton Bastard, when he controlled Winterfell. At the beginning of the Battle of the Bastards, Ramsay used Rickon to break Jon’s control. He killed him.”

Lady Catelyn’s breath shuttered. “But they weren’t killed by Theon?”

“Theon?” Lord Stark thundered, turning to his wife. Brienne was surprised that Lady Catelyn had not shared what Theon had done. Swallowing, Brienne knew what Sansa would want her to do here.

“When Theon betrayed Robb and stole Winterfell,” she started, darting her eyes to Lord Stark, “he killed two farm boys in Bran and Rickon’s places but then he was captured and tortured very cruelly, by the same man who killed Rickon eventually. He was kept at Winterfell as a sort of pet until Lady Sansa convinced him to help her escape.”

“Why was Sansa with this man?” Lord Stark asked and Brienne swallowed again.

“Lady Sansa was his husband.” And, so, despite her initial discomfort with telling this story, she told them what Ramsay had done to her and how Theon had saved her, because it was what Sansa would have wanted. She would have hated for her parents to hate Theon for what he had not done, or even for what he had done. “And he returned to Winterfell after saving the Iron Islands and his sister. Lady Sansa was very fond of Theon. He died at the Battle of Winterfell, protecting Bran.”

Lady Catelyn was crying again. “How did she end up married to him?” she asked, wiping her eyes as tears continued to flow.

Brienne hesitated. This would be perhaps the worst part of the story for Lady Catelyn. “When Lord Baelish took her from King’s Landing, he kept her at the Vale for awhile and then sold her to the Bastard.”

“Petyr?” Lady Catelyn breathed. “He sold my daughter to a rapist?”

Brienne nodded reluctantly. When Lady Catelyn began to sob again, Lord Stark wrapped his arms around her. His throat bobbed as he looked at Brienne and Jaime. “I think we’d best leave it here. We should continue tomorrow and decide what to do next.” Brienne wholeheartedly agreed. She was entirely exhausted.

They watched the Starks leave, Lady Catelyn leaning on her husband for support, and then Brienne lay her own head in Jaime’s lap. Jaime looked surprised. She reached up and cupped his face. “I am sorry I didn’t tell you about Jon.”

Jaime smiled at her. “I’ll forgive you,” he said. “I’m glad I know. When I believed Rhaegar kidnapped and raped Lyanna, I thought him just as bad as his father and thought that we were lucky not to have him on the throne. Now I know that my initial willingness to serve him was correct. I’m glad.”

Brienne smiled and buried her face against his stomach. His hands came down to play with her hair. “Let’s go to bed,” he suggested and Brienne nodded. It had been a long night.


	31. New Year's Eve: Teachers AU Part 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime and Brienne go to a New Year's party at Sansa and Tyrion's

A knock at the door pulled Brienne’s eyes away from herself in the mirror. She dropped the lip gloss and cursed as it fell into the sink, settling by the plug. Shaking her head, she dipped out of the bathroom and rushed down the stairs to her front door. As expected, she found Jaime behind it, grinning and looking especially handsome in dark jeans and a white open-collared shirt, peeking out from behind his long black coat.

“Good evening,” he said, his green eyes raking up and down her body until they settled at her eyes again. He reached to cup her cheek and pulled her to his lips for a kiss. Brienne was surprised by the intensity of it. He stumbled into the house, over the threshold, his thighs tight against hers. Brienne heard the door shut and assumed that he had managed to do it with his foot because one of his hands was in her hair and the other was on her arse. For her part, Brienne had one hand flat against Jaime’s chest and one on the small of his back.

His erection was prominent against her dress. Whatever worries that Brienne had about what she was wearing went out of the window. Jaime pulled away and met her eyes. His pupils were dilated. Brienne opened her mouth to speak but was interrupted by Jaime’s lips on hers again. Giving in to the inevitable consequence of being late for Sansa and Tyrion’s party, Brienne allowed Jaime to keep pushing her into the living room, where, against the arm of the couch, he undid his jeans, rid her of her underwear and thrust inside her.

Ten or so minutes later, with a smirk at a recovering Jaime, Brienne dashed back upstairs to clean off the mascara that had run and decided not to redo it. What was the use anyway, for all the difference it made? She rescued her lip gloss from the sink and decided to forego that too. 

By the time she was downstairs, Jaime had pulled himself together, his pants refastened and his hair more acceptable. Brienne grinned. “Good evening,” she said, replying to what he had said as soon as he arrived. Jaime only smirked.

“We probably stink of sex,” he said. Brienne laughed and shrugged. There was nothing they could do now. “Let’s go.”

“And you’re sure it’s okay that I come?” Brienne double-checked. Jaime’s eyes rolled and finished in a glare. “I just don’t want to be cheeky, especially now they’ve said I can stay over.”

Jaime sighed and stood up from where he was leaning against the arm of the couch he had just fucked her against. “You’re my girlfriend. Sansa and Tyrion practically demanded that you came as soon as I told them that you were my girlfriend officially.” Brienne smiled at that and then looked down at her black dress.

“I suppose I don’t need to ask if I look okay?” Jaime gave her such a heated look that Brienne did not say anything else. She did want to get to this party eventually.

XXX 

Sansa and Cait greeted them at the door when they knocked. Jaime grinned and took Cait immediately from Sansa. “This is a very pretty dress, Caitie,” he said, brushing a finger along her nose to make her giggle. Jaime turned to Brienne and smiled. “You look lovely too, Sansa dearest,” Jaime said with a grin at his sister-in-law. Sansa only rolled her eyes.

“Come in, come in,” she said, standing to the side, against the door. She whispered something to Brienne that made his girlfriend snicker though Jaime didn’t hear it. Shooting a curious look at Brienne, he received a look that told him to mind his own business. Jaime widened his eyes dramatically at his niece, blowing air out from his mouth. Brienne smacked the back of his hip and Jaime laughed.

Catelyn found them the second they walked into the living room, with Sansa darting away to get them some champagne, likely from Casterly Rock’s (Jaime’s childhood home) wine cellars rather than Tyrion and Sansa’s wallet. Catelyn’s husband, Ned, stood beside her. “Lovely to see you, Catelyn,” Jaime said with a nod of his head to her husband, who no doubt recognised Brienne from their trip to the supermarket a few days previous.

Jaime wrapped his arm around Brienne’s waist, brushing his thumb against her rib cage. She did look spectacular though Jaime thought that most men would not see just how amazing she looked too busy hiding behind their own prejudice. Lucky for Jaime.

Catelyn was telling Ned just how amazing Brienne was and what she had done for the school. Jaime beamed with pride, watching her react. She flushed but there was a little smile playing at her lips. “Isn’t she phenomenal?” Jaime said, grinning when Catelyn finished her description of Brienne’s behaviour management styles.

Sansa arrived with their champagne flutes and groaned - literally groaned - in agreement with what her mother was saying. “Dad, genuinely, I can’t believe I lived before Brienne started working here.” Ned chuckled, which was about the most emotion that Jaime had ever seen from him. “I mean, I love Jeyne and she’s amazing as well but I will be bloody heartbroken when Brienne leaves.”

“Have you had a few drinks, Sansa?” Brienne said, laughing awkwardly and tucking her hair behind her ear. Jaime squeezed her waist and she looked down at him. Her self-deprecating smile turned into a true one. Jaime wanted to kiss her. Instead, he pressed a kiss to Cait’s temple, watching as his little niece looked between her grandparents, her mother and Brienne.

Brienne took a sip from her drink as the conversation turned to Cait, who practically preened under the attention. Ned took his granddaughter from Jaime’s arms and, though Jaime felt her absence, he used the opportunity to whisper in Brienne’s ear. “Do you want to dance?”

Sending a glare in his direction, she shook her head almost imperceptibly but Jaime did not desist. He wrapped his arm more fully around her waist, turning her towards him and then using his other arm to fully encircle her, his glass of champagne pressing against the small of her back. Jaime nuzzled his face against her neck. “Dance with me,” he whispered against her skin.

And then Brienne did agree, likely because she was aware that everyone was watching them. They did not get to the dancefloor quick enough to miss Tyrion disgustedly stating, “they’re going to fuck in our house tonight” and Sansa shouting at him for language. Jaime only laughed and put his champagne-holding hand at Brienne’s waist while his other hand interlaced with hers. Pulling her close, they danced very awkwardly and slowly to a song that probably called for faster dancing. Jaime didn’t care.

“I want to be with you forever,” Jaime said, nudging his side against Brienne’s hand where it held her glass of champagne. She could not hold in her admonishing but amused smile when some of it spilled on her fingers.

“Jaime, you’ve hardly known me a month,” she said, slightly nervously. Jaime’s heart sank a little bit. Perhaps she did not feel the same. That was understandable. It was fast. Jaime had never felt like this in his entire life. He never wanted to let her go. Jaime felt Brienne’s hand move from his side to his chin, hitting it with the rim of her champagne glass. Jaime had hardly noticed that he was not looking Brienne in the eye any longer but at her shoes instead.

She met his eyes, her blue ones wide and searching. Jaime supposed she thought that he was just speaking for speaking’s sake rather than meaning what he said. Just as Jaime went to rid her of that notion, she covered her mouth with his, not for long, but long enough to make Jaime grin stupidly when she pulled away. “I want to be together forever too,” she admitted quietly and Jaime grinned.

When he reached to kiss her again, leaning close to her lips, he received a slipper to the arse. Jerking away from Brienne in protest, Jaime turned to find his little brother jokingly pointing and glaring. “No snogging before midnight,” he declared and Jaime scoffed, leaning up to kiss Brienne anyway, making her flush and giggle and take a sip of her champagne.

XXX

Midnight was a lot closer suddenly, a lot of champagne and other drinks later. Brienne had danced with Jaime most of the night, though Margaery and Sansa stole her a few times too, leaving Jaime to chat with his father and his brother. Brienne had hardly spoken to Jaime’s father, which she thought was by Jaime’s design, likely for protective reasons. His behaviour earlier showed that he was not ashamed of her, so she knew that was not the reason.

The countdown on screen had begun, in London. It was at 57 seconds. Jaime came over to reclaim her from Margaery and Sansa, his drunken hands wandering slightly too low and slightly too high. “Having a good time?” he murmured in her ear, pulling her tight against his front. Brienne grinned and nodded, leaning back so that the side of her head would press against his temple. She moved her hand around, looping at his neck and reaching to play with his hair. He grinned lazily at her.

“Do you think I’ll be here next year?” Brienne asked, the alcohol in her system making her able to speak her fear. Jaime furrowed his brows up at her and Brienne’s fingers stilled in his hair. The countdown was at 41 seconds.

“Of course.”

“But I won’t be working at the school.”

“You’re always going to be in my life, though.”

Brienne smiled. She hoped for that, as fiercely as she had ever hoped for anything. “I’m going to miss these people,” she said, looking around the room. 33 seconds. “And you.”

Jaime snorted. “We’ll see each other all the time.” Brienne shrugged, tugging at his hair slightly. “I know what you mean. I’ll miss you.” Jaime paused and they stared at the television together. 24 seconds. “I love you.”

Brienne inhaled sharply, her eyes on the London Eye on the screen. She blinked and turned to him. His green eyes were wide and earnest. Brienne grinned. She pressed her lips to his, ignoring Tyrion’s crow of disapproval behind them. When she pulled away, the countdown had started, though she had not taken any notice. Jaime was beaming. “I love you too,” she said, feeling stupidly as though she might cry of happiness.

And, as though the whole world had aligned in their favour, the fireworks started going off in London and she was kissing him again, shifting so that she was standing against him rather than in front of him, her arms looping lazily around his neck as they kissed slowly. Only when Jaime’s hands started to move from their rather innocent positions did Brienne pull away.

“Happy New Year,” she whispered against his lips, which stretched into a smile yet again.

“Happy New Year,” he replied. “May this be the first of many more.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well here it is, five days late but here!
> 
> This is not only the last Festive Tidings fic but also the last Teachers AU prompt. I am going to move them all into their own fic at some point and put an epilogue on the end, so be on the look out. (Also if you have any name suggestions, that would help me greatly)
> 
> In other news, I have plans to make Back in Time a full story (which also needs a name) but it needs planning to make it have a real plot and conclusion so it probably won't be until the end of January that you start to see that
> 
> Finally, thank you thank you thank you for your support this month! The comments and kudos and bookmarks and everything have really kept me going. I really doubted my ability to do this so I'm feeling pretty good right now (even though I am late!). Every person who has read, commented, kudos'd or whatever - thank you so much <3
> 
> I'm sorry for neglecting Sunburst and Changing Priorities and Kingslayer while I did this but it has been good for me! Changing Priorities chapter 8 is finished but it's got some sensitive bits in it so I want to reread it in the morning before I post it and piss someone off because I've not handled something correctly. 
> 
> Sunburst chapter 13 has been started (three pages of Jaime, Brienne and ADDAM MARBRAND goodness) and it should be up either tomorrow evening or on Tuesday. 
> 
> Kingslayer's Tent (which was significantly pushed back by Lord Selwyn of Tarth getting into my head and FORCING me to write two more chapters in my ten-chapter fic) will also be done by Tuesday
> 
> If none of this makes any sense to you, go and read all my fics and it will make more sense!
> 
> Thank you again again. I couldn't do this without your support


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